


Horizon

by HedonistInk, ZeroCrowe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Developing Relationship, Fear of Death, Gore, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Plane Crash, Serious Injuries, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroCrowe/pseuds/ZeroCrowe
Summary: Lance had always wanted to go to Japan, so after two years of saving as much as he could from his minimum wage jobs he was finally on his way. Flying for the first time in his life filled him both with anxiety and elation. Shiro, on the other hand, had flown back and forth to the country of his birth more times than he could count. It was routine and almost mundane, but the presence of the cute man in the seat next to him was shaping out to be a good distraction. That is, until it all went terribly wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance written by minus___zero  
> Shiro written by InterdictedKai

It was an eventless flight as far as Lance was concerned. The wait in the airport had bored him to tears, of course, but once he’d stepped foot on the plane his excitement had started to twist and turn in his gut. He’d saved for _two years_ on shitty wages whilst trying to afford the rent to a shitty apartment in the run down part of the city, just so he could take this trip. So what if his friends tauntingly called him a ‘weeb’ for it. Lance was _finally_ going to Japan.

The trip from Canada to the island country wasn’t _that_ long compared to some other places but it felt like forever to Lance. Being sat in a small space for hours on end, not to mention it being the first time he’d flown made the excitement mingle with anxiety. Anxiety made him _fidget_. A lot. What also made him fidget was how _aware_ he was of the tall man sitting next to him, effectively trapping Lance between the window and a wall of buff hottie that really had no business being so damn… well, _hot_.

Shiro on the other hand was more than a little bit done with the idea of such a long flight. It had been novel and exciting the first six times. The flight was long and tedious and the jet lag was a bitch. But his job and his family were on opposite sides of the Pacific to each other and that meant too many flights back home for holidays and important dates. So it was a necessary evil. Still, at least he made more than enough money with the job that the cost didn't have him hurting and he had the time off to spare, not really taking his vacation days for anything else.

And this flight, at least, Shiro had lucked out. The slim, almost twiggy man next to him was practically the definition of his _type._ And with nothing else to do aside from browsing his email on his tablet to keep up with the things that seemed to pile up when he disappeared for even a half a moment, Shiro couldn't help but occasionally check him out. And he kept getting looked at in return.

Lance could  _swear_ that the guy had… _checked him out_ a couple of times. Okay it was probably all in his head because there was no way the guy was so damn hot _and_ gay - or Bi… or _Pan_ \- but… Nope he was doing it again. Lance bit his lip and side glanced the taller man before ducking and turning slightly to text on his phone. The Line message went through quickly and Lance was more than a little pleased that he’d paid for the use of the plane's WiFi.

 

> **_Lancelottle_** _:_ _Oh.my.god. Hunk help me this guy is so hot I think he’s checking me out what do I do!?_
> 
> **_Hunkules_ ** _: What guy? On the plane? How do you know he’s not looking at your awful ass taste in sneakers?_
> 
> **_Lancelottle_ ** _: Hey! Pink is a perfectly acceptable colour for a dude to wear okay!_
> 
> **_Hunkules_ ** _: Yes it is but_ **_neon_ ** _Lance, really? Anyway pics or it didn’t happen._
> 
> **_Lancelottle_ ** _: Fine. Wait a sec._
> 
>  

Lance chewed on his lip, making sure his phone was on silent and the flash was _off_ before pretending to move in his seat to get more comfortable. The picture he managed to take was blurry but clear enough to see the man’s torso and the lower part of his face. It would have to do. Lance felt warmth in the apples of his cheeks as he sent the image and tried to look innocent.

The _picture-taking_  was anything but subtle though and Shiro huffed out a slight chuckle. "Say cheese or something next time." The words were quiet, spoken under his breath.

Lance waited for Hunk's response but after a few moments he heard the man _speak_ . Under his breath and _amused_ but the words made Lance’s blush go from a slight pink to a vibrant red in a matter of milliseconds. “Selfie!” Lance blurted the word awkwardly and then slapped himself in the face with the palm of his free hand, then he turned so his shame was at least a little bit hidden.

Shiro blinked at the blurted word before snorting, shaking his head. "...Right." He didn't believe that for a second. Not with how _guilty_ the man looked. It was obvious he'd taken a picture of him. Still, that seemed like all the guy was willing to say and Shiro settled himself back in his seat, tipping his head back. He prepared himself for an awkward flight in silence after that.

With his back half to the stranger Lance pressed his forehead against the window with a groan of humiliation. _This_ was why he didn’t have a boyfriend. This was why he’d _never_ had a boyfriend. There was nothing appealing about an awkward, gangly guy with a low wage job who lived on cup noodles and watched way too much anime and Japanese horror. Nothing. Lance shoved his phone back into his pocket and willed the burn of humiliation on the back of his neck to go away. How many hours did he have left to sit next to this guy in shame? Fuck. “S-sorry…” He finally squeaked out, the closed blind across the window cool against his skin before he sat back up with a defeated sigh. “I won’t do it again, that was shitty of me.”

Shiro perked when the man was speaking again, squeaking out an apology. He laughed slightly. "No, I'm flattered, honestly. I don't think anyone's ever had the balls to snap a covert candid from _right_ next to me before. Can I at least get the _name_ of the amateur photographer in question…?"

“It wasn’t even a good pic like half your face is cut off so your identity is-... huh?” Lance continued babbling but the other man’s words cut him short. The _laugh_ cut him short. _Dear god that sound should be illegal?_ Lance’s internal monologue gasped appreciatively before he realised the words. ‘The first time _from right next to him_ ’ which meant it happened a lot? Not that Lance was surprised.

“Does that… do people do that a lot? I mean I can _see_ why cuz _holy-_  I mean…” Okay. Okay Lance calm down. _Probably straight_ remember. “L-Lance. I’m Lance.” This was a conversation wasn’t it? They were having a conversation. Lance couldn’t help the almost elated smile that spread across his features, coupled with the shy blush that had overtaken the intense flush of humiliation from before. “Is this your first time flying too, um….?” Lance left the question open ended hoping for a name in return.

Shiro found the stranger's babbling endearing. He was obviously nervous. It was definitely cute. He wondered vaguely what it would be like to just shut him up with a kiss instead. But… they were just strangers on a plane. Still, he could amuse himself with the idea in the privacy of his own thoughts.

A shrug moved Shiro's shoulders as his lips twitched with amusement at the way the guy--Lance, apparently--was stumbling back and forth over his own words like a newborn deer. "Often enough that you learn which angles a selfie _are_ and which angles they definitely _aren't._ " And oh no the man's blush was _far_ too cute. Shiro sighed at the reminder of how often he'd flown. "First time this _month,_ maybe. Call me Shiro."

Lance grimaced internally. Yep, this guy was a chick magnet alright. What a shame. “I… I mean _some_ selfies are taken from that angle… just… not with the pants on usually…” _Oh god he’d just brought up dick pics_. Lance wanted to dig himself a hole and crawl into it, it was one thing to awkwardly take selfies of a stranger and another to throw innuendos at him.

Shiro's eyes widened slightly at the obvious and blatant implications of Lance's words. Well. That was bold. And now he was just picturing the man sitting next to him _taking_ those sorts of selfies. Dick pics. He reprimanded himself to _not_ try to imagine the stranger's _dick._ It was something of a losing battle. Although in his own defense the plane ride was _very_ boring aside from this spark of interest.

Lance's attention was regained when the man - _Shiro_ \- said this was the first time _this month_ that he’d flown. “That makes it sound like you travel a whole lot. Man, it took two years to save up for this. I dun think I can afford it again until I’m about sixty.” Lance tried his best to just continue as if he’d never stumbled over those awkward selfie angle words.

"Family's back home. Job isn't." Shiro shrugged. "But my parents wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I missed a birthday or holiday with them. So I wind up going back and forth." He could hear the 'we're _old_ , Takashi, spend time with us while you can' rant playing in his head at just the _idea_ of it. He paused for a moment before gesturing at Lance's pocket. "Do you want a better one to send to your friend…? I mean… I'm assuming you took that to send to someone and not just for your… personal collection?" He offered up a wink.

“Huh, that’s real nice though. That you do it.” Lance felt a flutter. Despite his lack of a strong accent this guy was definitely a born Japanese. Of course he _knew_ Shiro was Japanese from looking at him he wasn’t _blind_ but something about  being born there too just had him wondering what it was like. Shiro’s hometown, the sort of house he’d grown up in and the sorts of foods his mother made. It was all so _different_ and interesting to him but he was often made to feel bad about his interest, so almost as soon as he thought it Lance felt guilty. Shiro was hot though. Damn hot. But then Shiro was asking if he wanted another picture and Lance’s heart began to hammer in his chest. “Do I… _can I?_ ” He said as if in disbelief. But he wasn’t going to let his chance go, so he fumbled for his phone, ignored the message Hunk had sent and opened up his actual phone camera instead of the one in Line.

“M-Maybe it’s for both. _Say cheese_.” Lance said the words quickly, cheekily, before snapping a much better picture of Shiro. This one holding a view of the man’s head in its entirety and his body down to his mid torso, yep… _that_ one was going to be spank bank material when he finally got over his shame about it. Which wouldn’t take Lance long to be honest.

The admission that it was for _both_ was again bold and blunt and Shiro felt a slight thrill at the idea of it, huffing out another, disbelieving laugh. "Well… in that case maybe you should take one of _both_ of us. You know… for the sake of completeness. ...May I?" Shiro moved to snatch the phone out of the smaller man's hand before he could properly answer, switching to the front camera and shifting in his seat to get a decent angle on both of them. Well… if he was doing this, he might as well go all-out. Just before he tapped the shutter button, he turned his head, pressing a kiss to Lance's cheek, eyes glinting with mischief as he sat up properly and tossed the phone back into the man's lap. "And now you've got a story to tell."

When Shiro suggested a picture of _both of them_ Lance sort of flip flopped and flailed as his phone was grabbed from his hand. “A-ah- wait… I mean. Really!? I mean- Ah!” Lance stumbled again over his words as Shiro leaned in and got ready to take the picture. Lance tried to smile but _the kiss to his cheek_ had his features exploding into colour again and his eyes going owlishly wide as he stared at the screen. What a dorky face to have in a photograph, he looked like an idiot but he didn’t want to delete the picture either. Not when the hot guy was kissing him. Lance grabbed the phone when it was thrown in his lap and ducked his head.

Shiro had expected Lance's reaction to be rather priceless. But the blatant blush and the wide-eyed _shock_ were better than he'd even expected. He almost wished he could ask for a copy of the picture. But that would probably have been crossing a line. And it meant giving this guy his contact info. ...Which he wasn't entirely sure that he'd mind. But _still._ Maybe before they landed he could work it back into the conversation.

“T-that’s.. I mean.. You… thanks…” Fail. Again. Lance shoved his phone back into  his pocket as he turned his face away. Fiddling with the blind and poking at it until a peek of light came in through the gap. But… something was strange. Lance lifted it a bit higher and felt a sick panic twist in his gut, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest as he stared at the missing chunk of wing. Well, the covering of the wing, a section of it was just… _gone_. The skeleton of the planes limb clearly visible and rattling violently. Why… why had no one noticed? Why was no one saying anything? Why hadn’t _he_ noticed?! Lance felt himself begin to sweat, his mouth working but no sound coming out as he turned to face Shiro, this time his wide eyes were filled with fear.

When Lance turned away, Shiro let them lapse into silence again. He smiled slightly to himself watching the other man as he fiddled with the blind awkwardly. Alright, maybe getting his number wouldn't be the worst possible idea. But then Lance was shoving the blind up again and looking back at him in nothing short of _terror._ Shiro frowned for the briefest of moments before looking at the window. He blinked, shoving the panel up the rest of the way and half-leaning over Lance's lap as his eyes nearly bulged at the sight. That was… that was _not_ good.

Shiro didn't know much about planes but he knew they always said with things like hurricanes and tornadoes that having a window open meant the rest of the building could rip apart easier. And judging by the way the wing was _rattling_ and shaking, it was probably the same for it. " _Chikushou…_ "

Lance was numb all over both body and mind as Shiro leaned over him and swore… at least Lance thought that’s what he’d done but he was in too much of a panic to decipher shit right now. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t _breathe_ . There was no way that was safe, there was no way they could fly with the wing like that but no one else had _noticed_ !? How had… _why hadn’t there been an announcement!?_

Shiro flopped back into his seat, throat tight as he jabbed at the call button repeatedly with one shaking finger, gaze flicking between Lance and the window. Shouldn't they have been making some announcement about an emergency landing or something? Or were they just going for the 'crash imminent, avoid populated areas' route and didn't want the passengers to panic? Oh god. They were going to fucking _die,_ weren't they. Dropping his hands back to his lap, he moved blindly to slip his tablet into the seatback in front of him and re-buckle his seatbelt before clutching at his knees. "Lance… seatbelt. Now." Shiro tried to keep his tone low and calm even as he stared at the ratting metal. If there was _any_ chance of them making it out of this, that was definitely step one.

Lance felt his breaths begin coming short and sharp as Shiro sat back in his seat and did whatever it was he was doing. His throat felt tight and it _hurt_ and Lance felt like his face was wet but he wasn’t sure if it was real or a figment of his imagination. The stern, deep voice of the man next to him had Lance turning in slow motion to stare at him blankly. His complexion ashen and clammy as his hands remained frozen at his sides for a moment. Seat… seat belt. _Seatbelt_ . Lance kept looking at Shiro as his hands flew into motion, trembling and fumbling with the belt and wondering if it would cut him in half. As an unconscious action he zipped his pockets too, his phone and wallet inside each one. He was going to puke, he was going to piss his pants oh god he was going to _die_.

Shiro's breaths seemed to be fighting to come and go from his lungs, his chest feeling heavy and tight as he clutched at his own knees. He nodded slightly as he saw Lance moving to put on his seatbelt finally. Good… That was… that was something. Shiro's gaze flicked over to the front of the plane. Two of the stewardesses were hurriedly whispering to each other with sharp gestures and harsh body language. Well. Obviously they were _aware_ of the problem. The fact that they were standing there _arguing_ though wasn't a good sign. Probably debating whether to warn the passengers or not. Right. No emergency landing, then.

The seatbelt light lit up overhead with a soft ding and Shiro's thoughts only vaguely registered an announcement coming through the speakers that they were going to be 'experiencing some turbulence'. _Turbulence_ was one way to fucking put it.

Lance felt like he was going to pass out with how hard he was breathing. His ears were filled with white noise and tinnitus and through that he could hear something like an announcement but he couldn’t make out the words. _His face was numb_ . He couldn't feel his fingers other than the fact that they felt stiff and unresponsive from how hard he was hyperventilating. He looked out the window again in time to see a small section of _something_ break away and fly off faster than his eyes could follow.

Lance gagged.

Shiro couldn't help it, one hand shot from his knee to grab for Lance's hand just for something to hold onto. His head pressed back against the headrest and he swallowed hard, measuring his breaths. He wasn't ready.

When there was suddenly a pressure on his hand, Lance jolted as he ripped his gaze away from the window to where Shiro was clutching at him. This stranger he’d been sort of flirting with and was now panicking with him… was holding him, even though it was in a small way. That’s when Lance _really_ started to cry loudly, just as the plane jerked up and down again almost violently. More voices were starting to add to the cacophony in his head and Lance squeezed Shiro’s hand as much as he could with his numb, unresponsive fingers.

Shiro felt the jerking and only hoped Lance wouldn't pull away as they both stared out the window. He saw the other man looking down as he started to outright _sob_. And the man was clutching back at his hand, the gesture weak and jittery. Shiro let out a choking noise, breaths starting to come in slightly wheezing gasps as his heart hammered against the inside of his ribs as if it was trying to break free. Bitterly, Shiro thought it just might succeed in a few minutes time.

Another shudder and a loud groaning sound which was _definitely_ metal was what had the hot sensation of piss blossoming out from between Lance’s legs. He could hardly register it to care. Soaking the seat and the floor and his legs as he sobbed and sagged back against the seat light headed from panic.

The piercing, grinding groan had Shiro gripping harder to both Lance's hand and his own leg. He was probably going to have bruises on his thigh. Not that it mattered. Could you bruise when you were dead? He heard a faint, strange sound over the engine and metal sounds, hearing seeming to have gone hyper aware of every little change. A moment later a bitter scent hit his nostrils and Shiro glanced down to see the obvious wet patch on Lance's lap. Letting out an absurd little laugh that bubbled into a quiet sob, Shiro dropped his head back against the seat again, tipping his head up and shutting his eyes.

Lance didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to just _stop_ not yet. Not now without his Mama or Papa around, not without saying goodbye to all his friends, not without his first kiss or his first pet or being able to fulfil his lifelong dream of visiting Japan. It was stupid, it was all sentimental shit but it was _important_.

Absently, Shiro's thumb rubbed circles on Lance's hand, the soft texture of the other man's skin giving him something to focus on that wasn't his own wheezing breaths, the grinding sounds of the plane falling apart, or the bone-deep shaking wracking his body that he wasn't sure how much was his own body and how much was the plane. He'd never been one to _pray_ but Shiro pleaded to _whatever_ there was to just let him--let _them_ survive. People survived plane crashes, right? Right. It could happen. It… It could happen. The plane jolted again and seemed to plummet for a moment as his body tugged on the seat belt. Shiro redoubled his efforts.

Someone screamed, Lance couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man or a _child_ oh _god_ there were children… Orange, everything inside the plane that he could see was orange and black and he was going to die. The sound of the engines struggling and the metal falling through the sky was branded into his brain and would probably be there in the afterlife. There _was_ an afterlife right?

In his head, Shiro listed through a laundry-list of promises for things he would do if he survived this. He would get back in touch with old friends. Or make new ones. When was the last time he'd actually gone out with friends anyway? Or even just gone out on a date? It wasn't like he didn't have offers. He was just always busy with work. Or pretended to be. Maybe a pet too. Yeah, a pet sounded good. He would complain less about visiting his family to. Hell, he'd do charity work if he just got out of this alive.

Something shook the plane harder, a sound almost deafening outside the window making everything veer to the right, pressing Lance hard against Shiro’s body. Then everything seemed to calm for a moment, Lance’s head spinning as he looked at Shiro one last time before something was hitting the plane and making it shudder more harshly. Then everything went black.

The press of Lance's body against his as they veered to the side was less than comforting but he clung to the warmth desperately. Alive. They were still alive for now. They were going to be alive in a few minutes too. They would. Maybe this was all just some horrible nightmare and he'd actually missed his flight. Shiro kept his eyes closed, not daring to look anywhere. Then there was a final jolt and Shiro could just remember a flash of pain before everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next thing Shiro knew was the pain coming back. Everything hurt, searing up and down his right arm more than anything...

The next thing Shiro knew was the pain coming back. Everything hurt, searing up and down his right arm more than anything. His nostrils and lungs burned with acrid industrial-smelling smoke and he coughed, blinking his eyes open. His body seemed sluggish to respond to his commands as he tried to take in the situation around him. Wait. There  _ was _ a situation around him. He was… He was alive? Either he was alive or this was some sort of purgatory hell. It looked like the plane had  _ shattered _ around them, ripped into chunks like it was nothing more than play-dough. Shiro's head whipped to the side and he regretted the action immediately as it spun but he moved to prod at Lance.  _ Please be alive. _ "Hey…  _ Hey. _ " 

Lance wasn’t sure what was happening at first. Everything was dark, everything was pain and too hot and too cold. He felt sick and there was an odd smell burning at his nose as a vague sound echoed around his head. Was this hell? The burning smell and the pain… Lance heaved hard and vomited with a shudder and a wince as the coppery taste of blood and the strong burn of bile coated his tongue. He opened his eyes and it took another long moment for him to realise that he was…  _ here _ . Alive.

Shiro's tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his body's reactions a haphazard mix of sluggish and jerkingly fast. Or maybe they just felt fast because they hurt. He grimaced with a choking disturbed sound when Lance suddenly  _ puked _ onto him. But puking meant alive. Lance was alive. Oh god. Thank god. He wasn't the only one who had survived. His eyes flicked down and the world spun or maybe that was just his head. Shiro groaned, tipping his head back for a moment before attempting forward again but more slowly. Lance was… bleeding. Lance was definitely bleeding. 

Lance was draped painfully across something warm and soft and-  _ oh _ . “Shi-....ro…” His voice barely made a sound. His head hurt and he closed his eyes again as something trickled ticklishly down the side of his face. His stomach hurt, a lot. The belt still fastened around his midsection digging in harshly but he couldn’t move with how heavy he felt. His body wasn’t listening to his brain but his brain was certainly listening to his body. The pain throbbing up from his hip and groin on the left side making him sob as he tried to sit up without opening his eyes. Something felt weird there, something hard digging into the apex of his thigh and hip making it too painful to move. 

Lance wiggled his hands down, fingertips feeling numb still and bones aching as he felt along and wrapped his fingers around something hard and splintered protruding from his body. It wasn’t  _ huge _ , but it wasn’t supposed to be there. “Oh…” He said, dropping his hand and feeling the way his clothes were ripped. It felt like most of the upper leg of his pants on the left side was gone, still held together at the waistband but wrecked beneath that. “Sh-...hiro…” He said again, trying to force his eyes open as he looked up at the other man with crossed eyes, hooded and unfocused.

"We ngh--" Shiro cut off his words as he tried to move slightly and searing pain shot through his body. Gritting his teeth, he tried again. "We need to… We need to m-move… You… okay? Can you… move?" Every word was a struggle. It fucking  _ hurt _ . Shiro was pretty sure his face was bleeding too if the wetness across the bridge of his nose was any indication. But there was smoke and smoke meant fire, right? So they needed to… get out of there. 

Lance watched Shiro, the blur of his face a mix of white and black and  _ red _ . He tried to force himself to sit properly again, gasping and sobbing at the pain that shot through his stomach and back and hip. Right down into his leg and toes. Lance couldn’t speak properly, instead opting to fumble on the  _ way _ too tight buckle holding him to his still mostly intact seat. He coughed, feeling like he was going to puke again and the buckle was  _ stuck _ and he couldn’t get it off. Lance started to panic again, breaths coming sharp and short as he made distressed sounds, fingertips slipping in the blood and grime.

Lance was panicking. Shiro could see Lance was panicking. He should… probably do something about that, right? Tell him to relax. Something. Time was weird. By the time Shiro managed to find words, Lance was flailing against the belt and screeching. Shiro cringed at the yelling, the sounds sounding much too loud and yet distorted. Hopefully that was a pain thing not an injury thing. 

“S-hshiii… w-we’re…  _ alive…. _ Right...alive..  _ Fuck _ !” Lance’s voice came out as a half screech as he struggled against his belt, feeling claustrophobic. There was a fucking branch  _ in his fucking groin _ . Lance’s vision cleared a bit but his head felt dizzier, sicker.  _ Finally _ the belt came undone and he fell forwards out of the seat. Right onto something that squelched beneath his hands and was still warm and wet and… Lance puked again. Throwing himself backwards against the seats and wiping his hands off on them because they’d been  _ inside a person _ . Or what was left of one. He spun and swayed as he grabbed for the belt around Shiro’s hips too. Unthinking as he blindly tried to unbuckle it and get the other man out, it released more easily than his own and he half crawled in the direction which looked the least… gory. 

Shiro watched as Lance fell forwards and then Lance was puking again, Shiro moved his head to look, heart lurching in his chest at the fact there was a  _ corpse _ there. Broken and dead and  _ wrong. _ So wrong. Shiro swallowed to keep himself from gagging. He went to try to fumble for his belt but moving his right arm only resulted in more sharp, searing pain. He gave up and turned to look at his arm as he felt Lance grabbing at his hips, flinching as bruises were pressed at.  _ Oh… _ That was blood. That was blood on his arm and… shiny… shiny things. Shiro's sleeve wasn't shiny. Oh. That was… there was metal in his arm. Sticking out of it, rather. 

Freed of the belt, Shiro stumbled to his feet, staring at his arm in a mix of surprise and shock. It didn't feel like he was looking at  _ his _ arm. Yes, it was attached to him but…  _ his _ arm didn't have… didn't have metal things sticking out of it. So it couldn't be his arm, right? Regardless, he managed to keep the idea of 'stick together' in his head, stumbling after Lance. "You need… Help…?  _ Fuck. _ " They were  _ alive. _ They had survived. Somehow.  

Lance’s hands hurt, glass and metal and splintered wood scattered across the floor digging into his fingers and palms as he crawled, mostly dragging his left leg. He hoped Shiro was following him, he needed to get away from the death, the acrid smoke. The voice calling out behind him told Lance he wasn’t alone and he shook his head when he was asked if he needed help. Shiro was hurt too, Shiro needed to look after himself until they got to somewhere clear.

Lance did his best to ignore all of the corpses - or parts of them - he saw on the way though the memories of their twisted remains would haunt him forever. The torn skin wrapped around bulging yellow fat, bones snapped and sharp jutting out of lumps of flesh… the more discernable bits too. A leg here, a charred arm and half torso there… he almost put his hand in the remains of a head, the lower half nothing but a gaping maw of messy teeth and brain matter. 

Neither of them should have been moving. Shiro knew that logically. But he also knew they needed to get away from… from all of  _ that. _ There were  _ bodies _ so many bodies. Shiro hadn't really appreciated how many people were on that plane… Not until they were broken and strewn across the forest floor of wherever the fuck it was that they were like so many children's toys. They couldn't be the only ones, could they? They couldn't… 

Adrenaline made Lance’s pulse hammer hard enough to hurt but it lessened the pain a little bit. Enough that he managed to crawl free of the major debris and off to where the trees were still mostly intact. Where the moss was thick and softer than the harsh floor had been a moment ago. He rolled onto his back and lie panting and gasping on the moss. He wanted to vomit again, his head hurt and spun and his stomach churned sickly. Hands trembling and cut all over but oddly numb still with his panic, the steak of splintered wood protruding from his lower body felt like a red hot poker melting into him. “Sh-Shiro… you need help?” He finally asked, struggling to push himself into an awkward sitting position, leaning mostly on his right side with his left leg out in front of him.

When Lance finally stopped and rolled over, Shiro could stop to appreciate the thing that looked like a broken bit of  _ branch _ sticking out of his body. "F-fuck… Forget me… You're… That's a  _ branch, _ Lance…" Shiro moved to clutch at his arm, hissing at the sting but relieved by the pressure. It grounded him. He could  _ think. _ He had to just… keep  _ doing. _ Then he couldn't freak out. He could freak out later. "You don't move. You hear me?" If they pulled it out would it make things worse? If it had nicked something… Lance could bleed to death, right? There were… there were important things there, right? Supply blood vessels. "Fuck… Okay I'm… There has to be a first aid kit, right? I'm gonna… Just… Just  _ stay _ okay? Don't touch that thing." 

Lance jolted when Shiro exclaimed about the  _ branch _ sticking out of him, as if he needed the reminder. Lance sobbed and grit his teeth and  _ Shiro _ was bleeding so much on his face and his arm looked so bad but he was  _ worried for Lance _ . Why? “N-no you…  _ Shiro- _ ...” Lance’s voice barely came out so as Shiro limped off to find a first aid kit in the carnage Lance fell onto his back again with a groan.

Shiro moved back to the mess, steering clear of anything that looked like it was smoking or unstable or engine-like. He picked through a few womens bags that he could find, struggling with zippers one-handed but not able to make his right hand  _ do _ anything well enough to be useful. He managed to find some bandages, two scarves, and a sewing kit. Well… that was something. He didn't exactly think it was  _ sanitary _ to sew up a wound with a sewing kit but if they could find some clean water and boil it they could clean it later. And besides. It wouldn't take long for them to get found. Right. They kept good track of planes. There would be a rescue crew there in a few hours. ...Wherever 'there' was. Finally spotting a beaten up and half-open first aid kit, Shiro salvaged what he could, stashing his new acquisitions in it and hauling it back to drop down next to Lance. His mouth tasted of the blood trickling down his face. "Okay… Okay… Let's… let's see it." 

Lance had definitely hit his head, now that he was still every bit of pain was beginning to get worse, he wanted the thing out of his groin. It… it was  _ moving _ when he did and it was burning and searing and he wanted it  _ gone _ . He didn’t know how much time passed but when Shiro spoke again Lance realised his eyes had been closed and everything had been quiet until that moment. “D-don’t…. Touch it…” Lance pleaded, terrified of bleeding to death if it was pulled free. There were arteries there right? What if he was just a breath away from dying just because of that bit of wood? “Shiro… more than that  _ your face...your  _ **_arm_ ** !” Lance’s voice broke around the words.

Shiro let out a relieved breath when Lance opened his eyes again, not daring to think about being  _ alone _ in these woods. He shook his head in response to the plea. "Just looking." Shiro leaned forward, hunching over him slightly as Lance kept talking, freaking out about his face, about his  _ arm. _ His gaze flicked to his arm. It still didn't… feel like his. He tried to move it, the response sluggish and weak. No. No that wasn't his arm. So it wasn't a rush. "It's fine. You first, okay?" 

Lance felt his body coiled and tensed, even though Shiro said he was just going to look. Neither of them had any real idea about what the fuck this was right? What to do? But Shiro was so put together and  _ so hurt _ but he was calm and seeing to Lance and… the panic wouldn’t stop. They were  _ alive _ but the panic wouldn’t  _ stop _ . “N-no I…” Lance couldn’t tear his gaze away from Shiro’s trembling, shrapnel filled arm. That was… that needed something doing for it sooner rather than later right?

Looking over the wound in Lance's side as best as he could, Shiro shook his head. "I don't want to… But… I don't… I don't think we can just leave that there. If it hasn't… hit something important then leaving it there… It just makes it more likely to, right? If you move? And you can't… you can't just stay here. We need… shelter or something." There were  _ things _ in woods. Distantly, he registered that the bleeding arm was shaking. 

But then Shiro’s words drew the young man’s attention back and he felt himself pale, a surge of nausea overcoming him again as he gagged but nothing came up. “I don’t… we… that… whhuu.” Lance dissolved into frightened tears again, he felt like a child right now. Helpless and useless. Shiro was right, Lance was scared but Shiro was  _ right _ . So he lifted his hand and shakily wrapped his bleeding fingers around the large splinter of wood, the action making it shift inside of him and his nerves screaming at him to stop so he let go and sobbed harder. “Shiro… Shiro I’m scared I can’t..  _ I’m scared _ .”

Lance was staring at his arm. Shiro knew Lance was staring at his arm. He really needed to  _ not _ do that. It made the arm too real, too  _ his. _ He couldn't deal with that. He needed to take care of Lance first. Then he could deal with the arm that wasn't really his. Right. He shushed the other man automatically when he gagged, setting his hand on Lance's thigh as lightly as he could. Lance was  _ crying _ and he really didn't know how to deal with that. Emotions hadn't… they hadn't properly kicked back in yet. 

"Shh… Shh…" Shiro swallowed before scrounging up the energy he could to control the injured arm. It felt like controlling a puppet with a half-broken control. He moved to set it on Lance's stomach, using his left hand to grab Lance's hand and link his right hand with it. He squeezed as best as he was able. 

Shiro's hand on his stomach was heavy but gentle, his own easily closing the distance when coaxed to lace their fingers. Idly Lance wondered what would happen if their blood got all mixed together, but bloodborne diseases were the last of his worries right now. He probably wouldn’t last long like this, so the fact that Shiro’s blood was coating both their hands, and Lance’s blood from the multiple cuts in his own hands was mingling… well he didn’t care. 

"I'm right here, okay? You're not alone. Let me just… I'll…" Shiro took in a sharp breath, letting it out just as harshly before moving to grab the branch with his fully-functional hand.  _ Please don't die, please don't die. _ "Breathe. Ready? One, two…" When he would have hit three, Shiro tugged up sharply, freeing the branch from the other man's body and praying it didn't bleed too badly. 

When Shiro pulled the branch free Lance choked on a cry and felt himself fade out for a moment. The hand not being held shot down to press against the open wound left behind, his thumb pressed against the pubic hair at the base of his dick. He hadn't realised his pants were  _ that  _ destroyed. But then again the feeling of the air against the skin across his bruised, grazed left side all the way to his shoulder said his shirt was probably in no better state. Clinging to his body by tiny scraps left intact there whilst his right side was less injured and less exposed. The side that had been pressed to Shiro. 

There were bits of splinter still embedded in the puncture as hot, thick blood gushed from the wound and coated his fingers even more. He felt faint, he wanted to puke again. It hurt. Lance wanted to curl up in a ball but Shiro’s hand on his stomach reminded him that the other man was hurt too and needed help. He couldn’t tell which blood was his and which was Shiro’s but between them there was a  _ lot _ of it. “M-my leg- ghhha!” Lance tried to move his left leg, tried to  lift and bend it but all that happened was hot searing pain as if glass shards were coursing through the veins there instead of blood.

Shiro choked slightly at the sound of the wood pulling free of Lance's wound. That was  _ definitely _ more blood than he had hoped for. It was a lot. They had to make it stop. Stop bleeding. Right.  _ Fuck _ why was Lance trying to  _ move? _ He shouldn't have been moving. Not until they patched him up as best as they could, at least. "Hey. Hey. Lance. Stay still. Just stay still, okay?" 

Tugging Lance's hand away from where it was pressed to the wound, Shiro moved to pluck at the few larger chunks of wood. That done, he grabbed up one of the scarves from the kit, wadding it up and pressing it to the wound. "Hold this, okay? Just hold this here as hard as you can and don't move." It would at least stem the flow, he hoped. 

Lance whimpered when Shiro told him to stay still, as if he could when he was so frightened and worked up. He wanted to  _ run _ but there was nowhere to run  _ to _ and he didn’t know if he could even walk yet. Still, Lance closed his eyes and tried his best to keep calm as the other man pulled out some more splinters of wood that had Lance sobbing harshly into the smoky air around them. The press of cloth had his eyes opening on a choked gasp as pain seared through his pelvis again but if there was anything left in the wound it would be far too small and blood covered to see and remove here. It’d be okay for a little while right?

Shiro moved to dig in the kit for the sewing kit, cursing as his weak hand and the shaking in the muscle made threading the needle nearly impossible. " _ Fuck. _ Here. Can you… do this?" He offered out the needle and thread, pressing his hand to the scarf instead. 

Lance held the cloth with trembling hands as Shiro dug around for something else. The profanity had him looking down at the offered items and he bit his lip, tasting blood there from his head wound. “I-I’ll try…” Lance took the needle and thread in his hands and winced at Shiro’s hands pressing down on his groin, the other man was much stronger than him for sure. Lance tried to thread it as quickly as he could, the small nicks and grazes all over his fingers and palms making the task difficult as did the fact his eyes just wanted to unfocus and cross. But he held them close to his face, breaths coming short and quick as he fumbled for a few minutes before finally getting it through. “H-here.” He croaked, holding them back out to Shiro as he once again zeroed in on the gash across the other man’s face and the way Shiro’s arm was glinting with the shards of metal.

Shiro did his best to focus on his breathing and on keeping pressure on Lance's wound. The more idle he was, the more his arm was starting to burn as if each cut were filled with acid. He'd have to do something about it. But first. Lance. Lance was the priority that he could manage. He took the needle when it was offered back to him, glad that he was at least mostly ambidextrous. Or… he had been. Shiro tried to fist his right hand and let out a frustrated huff at the lackluster response. It was just his body tuning out the pain, that was all. It would be fine. Right. 

"Okay this… this is gonna hurt but I'm going to do the best I can…" Shiro moved to tug the scarf away, watching as the wound filled up with blood again. He hurried to stitch the layers together. It was… weird. The resistance of  _ flesh _ tugging against the string was very different from stitching up a hole in a pair of pants. It made his gut churn and he swallowed, making the stitches as tight as he could while largely one-handed. 

Lance nodded and closed his eyes at the warning of pain. He wondered if he’d ever  _ not _ feel scared again, would he die before they were rescued? How much daylight did they even have left anyway? Lance tried to occupy his mind but then the needle pressed into his flesh and he yelped and had to fist his hands in the moss and dirt beneath him as a way to stop himself from surging up and pulling away from the sensation. He’d felt  _ worse _ pain so far of course but this was different. He was being sewn up like some sort of rag doll and the section of ripped flesh that was being repaired was already raw and intensely painful.

Shiro paused to dab at the wound with the scarf midway through, getting some of the blood out of his field of view. "O-okay… I think that's… as good as it's going to get." 

Lance trembled and grit his teeth as Shiro worked, breathing out a sigh of relief when it was over and feeling like the area was filled with fluid and numbing a bit. Probably blood and tissue swelling. Whatever. With that done Lance couldn’t stand being in his position any longer, shoving himself up to sit and escape at least part of the suffocated feeling he gagged and hunched over bringing up more bile. He felt like he was going to fall to the side again, his head was fuzzy and heavy and spinning but Lance reached up and took Shiro’s injured hand. 

Shiro hated the sound of every wince and hiss and pained noise that Lance let out. But the idea of being out here alone, of Lance  _ dying, _ that was worse. That was much worse. He was determined to do his best. But when it was done,  _ relieved _ was an understatement. He shoved the needle and thread away in the first aid kit. They really should bandage the wound up, keep anything else from getting into it. Shiro knew that. But Lance was hacking up more bile again and Shiro thought they could probably wait a minute after  _ that. _

“Y-your… arm…” Lance shifted closer as best he could, a leg either side of Shiro’s bent knees as he ignored the pain in his left one and inspected some of the shrapnel. It was hard to see through the blood and tattered material of Shiro’s shirt that was pinned into some of the wounds by the metal. There were arteries all over the place in the arm, but almost all of the shards seemed to be on the outer side so Lance hoped they were safe. “I… I’ll pull it out okay this is… this can’t stay like this Shiro.” He wanted to sleep, the adrenaline was wearing thin and all Lance wanted to do was  _ sleep _ and not wake up. 

Shiro jolted slightly when Lance took his hand, grimacing and looking away as his arm was looked at so intently. He let out a shaky breath, tensing when the other man suggested pulling it out. Those pieces were irregular and sharp and… Pulling them out was going to do the same thing that pulling out the branch had done to Lance. More  _ bleeding. _ Shiro swallowed hard, shoving the not-yet-bloody scarf at Lance. "Tie this off above it. Tight as you can. And just… Be careful, okay?" Shiro looked away, shutting his eyes. Quickly deciding that would only make him focus on it more, he opted to open them again, picking a nearby tree and starting to count the branches that he could see. 

Lance jolted when the clean - ish - scarf was shoved at him and he took it shakily. He felt even more sick now, the thought of hurting Shiro  _ more _ was awful but if the metal stayed there it was so  _ sharp _ it would probably slice through more flesh the longer it was left in and the more the other man moved. So he did as instructed, tied the scarf around Shiro’s upper arm and made sure it was tight, it was probably  _ uncomfortably _ tight but it would help the bleeding… he hoped. 

With that done Lance hesitated for a fraction before breathing out shakily. “I… I’m starting…” He announced, fingers closing around the edge of one of the smaller shards before pulling hard. It stuck a bit before coming free with a jolt and Lance whimpered at the sensation of it, not to mention how much it had to hurt. “Sorry…” He sobbed as he grabbed another smaller piece and repeated it. “I-I’m sorry…” Guilt. Guilt and worry and Lance hated himself for any additional pain he was causing as he worked. Trying to ignore the blood that was  _ there _ but not too bad as it lazily dribbled from the wounds instead of gushing. 

Shiro grimaced briefly at the tightness of the scarf, the pressure almost cutting but nothing in comparison to the searing pain below it. If anything, it was better, focusing on the throbbing pressure distracted him from the wounds lower down. Shiro hummed his acknowledgement to the warning, redoubling his counting. The first rip had a choked sound ripping out of his throat as he felt the flesh tearing a bit more. He shut his eyes, huffing in and out a few short, sharp breaths before opening them again. "I-it's fine. It's fine, really." Shiro shook his head, resuming his count. 

Five pieces later Lance was almost done. Shiro’s arm was a mess, but he still had the biggest section to pull free of the other man’s mid forearm. It had gone clean through the layers of flesh and out the other side, but looked like it missed the bone luckily and that it wasn’t quite deep enough to involve too much muscle. It looked  _ awful _ though. So he gripped it, still sobbing apologies as his hands slipped on the blood covering the metal. 

With each tugging sensation, Shiro grimaced and bit down a sound as best as he could, continuing to look firmly away as his eyes pricked with stinging tears. He kept trying to offer up counters to the apologies whenever he could, between sharp breaths. 

Lance swallowed down a yelp as he felt the shard slice into his palm and grabbed it again for a second try, pulling it free with a sickening sound before tossing it to the side and pressing his un-sliced palm against the wound hard. Hoping the pressure soothed it at least a little bit as he dry heaved again and tried to rub the blood and tears out of his eyes with the back of his other hand. “I-it’s all.. o-out… Ugh…”

At Lance's failed attempt and yelp, Shiro couldn't help turning to look in time to see the piece pulling free. He gagged, leaning away to heave slightly. Forcing himself to breathe and calm down, he nodded, wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Y-yeah… That's… thanks…" He sagged slightly, leaning back to support himself on his palm. "How long… How long do you think it'll take them to get here?" 

Lance wiped the back of his mouth too and glanced down at where he was still holding Shiro’s arm. He didn’t want to let go, the contact was comforting and he needed that more than anything right now. Even if Shiro probably did too. The man seemed so mature and put together in comparison to the sobbing mess Lance had become, but he felt like a kid lost in the woods with no way to find his parents. God… he wanted to hug his mom. He didn’t even care who saw, what people would say… he just wanted her.

“I… dunno.. Where even are we?” Lance’s voice was wavering with his tears and the waves of weakness coursing through him. He wanted to lie down and  _ sleep _ . He glanced around them again for the first time to really take it in. They were still pretty close to the burning plane so they’d need to move again. Trees had been felled and were split and broken like matchsticks around them and he had no idea where the rest of the plane was but this was definitely only a section of it. Then there were the bodies. The clothes ripped from them and mangled and crushed and Lance made a distressed sound before hanging his head so he didn’t have to look at it. 

Shiro sat up properly again at the question, not pulling his arm away from Lance's touch. It was grounding, a reminder that he couldn't just get caught up in his own head. He gave a one-shouldered shrug, looking around. "If I'm not mistaken where we are is… in a forest." It was a bit of a smartass reply but it wasn't  _ wrong _ either. He had no idea where they were. Probably somewhere over Alaska if he had to guess. Which meant they were probably essentially in the middle of nowhere. 

Lance groaned as a twinge shot through his hip but the almost sassy response from Shiro had him snorting and trying to give a weak smile through his continuous tears. “T-that’s… not funny a-asshole.” He sniffled and half laughed again. It was the sort of thing  _ he _ would usually say, if he weren’t so distressed. But it was a sort of  _ nice _ distraction from things even though he couldn’t block it out completely. 

Shiro's lips quirked up in a slight smile at the watery laugh he'd earned. "Obviously it is. You laughed." His tone was just on the teasing side of smug.

Wasn’t anyone else alive? Lance cleared his throat with a sick sounding cough. “We… the fire’s going… bad… we need to get away. Not too far but far enough… it might explode… it’s an engine there’s… there's fuel… Shiro.”

The words about the fire were… true enough. But that meant moving. Moving away from where people would be looking for them. Shiro swallowed hard before nodding, moving to stand and offering out his left arm. "You're right. It's dangerous here. You need help walking? Your leg… Seems like it's giving you some trouble right now." 

Lance rolled onto all fours and then took the hand offered to him shakily. His leg felt… weird. He was sure there weren’t any broken bones but it  _ hurt _ all over and felt weak and sort of detached from the rest of him. Lance stood and almost buckled as his head spun and threw him off balance, the leg that only half worked slipped slightly until he got his bearings. His hands were tight on Shiro’s hand and the front of his shirt as Lance clung for dear life. “O-oh god… it feels… weird…” He swallowed and shuffled into a more upright position. 

Shiro moved his right arm to try to help keep Lance upright if he should fall. Not that he was sure how well he would  _ accomplish _ that task if the other man  _ did _ try to use that arm for support. Thankfully, all Lance did was cling to his left hand and his shirt. 

Lance took a heavy breath to try and ground himself. “Okay.. kay.. We should… move away. Still close enough t-to see the light from the fire…”  _ Night time...fuck _ . What were they going to do when night fell. “Shiro…” Lance squeaked. “Do you think… there’s bears, or  _ wolves _ what if… where can we… oh god…” He was falling apart again.

"Okay… Let's just… worry about one issue at a time." Shiro bit his lip. "If we start a fire of our own… It should keep wolves or bears away, probably. Animals don't like fire, usually, right?" At least it always seemed to work in movies. "Let's just… This way then." Shiro picked a direction that the path looked relatively clear and nodded his head in that direction. "Come on, you can hold onto me." 

“Fire… y-yeah, good. Good idea ngh.” Lance grimaced when he put a bit  _ too _ much weight on his bad leg, pressing his forehead to Shiro chest. He wasn't sure if fire would keep them away or make the two of them better targets but light and warmth was better than darkness. At least in Lance's opinion anyway. Especially after what had happened, the dark would draw forth memories and images of the horror of what had happened and he was already dreading it. Plus it would be chilly, even though it was summer they were definitely far north. 

When Shiro nodded in a direction Lance turned to look and nodded. At least it looked relatively clear of fallen trees and too much plant growth. There was no way he could traverse anything too uneven and Shiro was injured too so he couldn't rely on the other man  _ too _ much. That would be unfair. He turned his body, clinging to Shiro’s arm and shirt still as he limped along wincing and gritting his teeth. Lance could feel something trickling down from his hip but he wasn't sure if it was old blood or new seeping out with motion. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the immediate panic and adrenaline starting to subside, everything was starting to hurt more and concern and anxiety was starting to eat at Shiro's mind.
> 
> “I can't… I… can't go… more” Lance trembled the words on a heavy pant before his legs gave out with a painful pang in the back of his pelvis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time. A little peace for them, well... sort of.

With the immediate panic and adrenaline starting to subside, everything was starting to hurt more and concern and anxiety was starting to eat at Shiro's mind. They really  _ were _ in the middle of nowhere. Would they even be able to find the wreckage? But planes followed set routes. So it wouldn't take them long to find them, right? Surely even if they hadn't made an announcement to the passengers, the pilots had given a warning to air traffic control. Right? Although there were always those stories of planes going  _ missing _ and it taking  _ weeks _ to find the wreckage. But no. That was… that was the exception. 

After what seemed like forever they were far enough away to barely see the fire of the shattered fuselage or hear anything but the woodland. “I can't… I… can't go… more” Lance trembled the words on a heavy pant before his legs gave out with a painful pang in the back of his pelvis.

Shiro forced the thoughts from his head as Lance finally gave his warning and stumbled and dropped. Shiro jerked his arm up, trying to at least lower the other man to the ground more slowly. "Okay… Here's fine. This is fine." It was good, if anything. The trees gave them some shelter from the winds and there were plenty of small, fallen branches that looked dry enough to maybe build a small fire. Shiro moved to clear a space, kicking away the fallen plant leaves and small plants until there was a broad circle of raw dirt. Moving to grab up branches, Shiro stacked them in a small pile in the middle of the circle before he dropped down to the ground, trying to resist the urge to grab at his arm. "See if you can find a rock or two that looks shiny or sparkly. That's what we need to make a spark." 

Lance had no idea about their surroundings as he slumped to the floor and tried to catch his breath. His throat hurt, his lungs were burning, what did smoke inhalation lead to? Lance couldn’t think and didn’t care as he felt himself fading out every few breaths. Shiro was moving about doing something but Lance had his eyes closed - when had that happened?

But when Lance was asked to find some rocks he managed to squint his eyes open to take in the fire area the other man was putting together. Ah yes, fire… warmth and light. Lance hummed a wobbly affirmation as he sank his fingers into the thick mossy undergrowth he was half slumped on. The action made his sliced hand sting and he pulled it back and cradled it to his chest as he pulled himself along the floor in short bursts to try and find something. He found a lot of useless stones, of course, but then Lance stumbled across a section with a few flints in it and picked the two biggest up. 

Shiro huffed harshly as he worked on reorganizing the pile of branches into something that might actually hopefully catch and stay lit. For good measure he tossed some leaves onto the pile as well. He sat back, watching Lance move. The skinny man looked like hell. He didn't imagine he looked much better but at least he didn't have a hole in his hip. They were both beat to hell and back. 

Placing the stones on his lap and swiping at the blood on his face again Lance leveled his gaze with the other man. “Flints… right? They work… I got.. I found some.” He was going to pass out soon. Not just sleep, Lance felt like he was on the verge of losing himself completely to unconsciousness. His head was throbbing, he felt even more sick than before.

It was only when Lance spoke up that Shiro realized he had closed his eyes. He jolted slightly, turning and taking in the way the other man seemed to be struggling. "Yeah… Yeah that's perfect. Good job." Standing, he moved to offer out a hand to help him back towards their wood pile. "Come on, let's get you sitting down." He tried to figure out which direction the wind was blowing in, thankfully there didn't seem to be much of it. "Here… sitting on that side we should get the warmth without the smoke. ...Assuming I can get this thing lit." 

Lance took the hand with his less injured one, keeping hold of the rocks in his lap as he half shuffled through the underbrush on his knees. Standing up was way too much effort and he didn’t have far to go before he could settle back down again. Resting with his legs bent and his right side on the floor so the left wasn’t under any pressure. It meant resting his weight on his sliced palm but that hurt less than his groin anyway.

“Y-yeah…” Lance agreed about the smoke, but then when Shiro said  _ he _ would try to light it guilt welled up again and Lance shifted and sat flat on his ass with a wince at the way his thigh was pressed up against the wound. It felt like it was pulling apart. “N-no I’ll do it. Your arm is… it hurts right? I can do it.” Lance clutched the flints he was still holding tightly and deposited one in each hand as he tried to get up onto his knees to lean over the wood and leaves. He swayed and sat back on his heels with a wince and a violent gag. 

Shiro frowned at Lance's insistence that he could do it. He looked like hell. He wasn't even properly managing to stand, just shuffling along on his knees. But… it  _ would _ be difficult for him to strike it properly. At least with only one fully working arm. He bit his lip, left hand going out as if to steady the other man but hesitating before touching him. The attempt was… it wasn't going well. And Lance looked sick as anything. 

“I… think my heads worse than I though...t.” Lance pressed his lips together tightly, swallowing down the nauseous feeling as he kneeled and tried again to get into the right position for fire lighting. Cracking the flints together a small piece chipped off but the spark died quickly. Lance tried three more times before he had to sag back to sit on his heels again with a grimace dropping one of the stones to press a hand to his injured groin, swollen and tender.

When Lance finally sagged back down, Shiro moved to kneel at his side. "Just rest, okay? I'm not  _ completely _ incapacitated." He took up the two stones quickly, pinning one under the edge of his shoe with the other gripped tightly in his left hand. Snatching up a few dry-looking leaves for kindling, he stuffed them by his toe as well before making his attempt. It took a few tries but finally on the fifth attempt the spark caught the leaves and Shiro hurried to smush the small smoking bundle in with the other kindling and the smaller branches. He fanned it carefully as it caught, not willing to let it go out. 

Lance wanted to pout when Shiro told him to rest. He couldn’t just make the other man do  _ everything _ . “N-no I didn’t mean you were lacking… skill just… it hurts… right? I don’t… want you to be in more pain because you’re looking after me.” Lance said lamely, feeling like an idiot as he watched Shiro striking the flints together. He wouldn’t have thought of that way of doing things, using a foot to hold the flint and shoving the kindling so close to it there. 

Shiro rolled his eyes slightly at the comment about him 'looking after' Lance. "What, as opposed to you being in more pain because you're being stubborn about looking after me? You have a hole in your side, Lance. And if those stitches pop because you're moving too much… It won't be good." Shiro shook his head, flopping back on his ass. "We just have to stick together in this, that's all. I know we don't… really know each other but… out here we're all we have for now." It was almost a cliche. 

Lance felt his cheeks burn slightly when Shiro retorted about his state and the stitches popping. That was a gross thought, images of blood just gushing out of the wound and his insides falling out with it. But it wasn’t like it had gone into his guts right? Just his muscle… nerves for sure, and with the weakness Lance was convinced something tendon-like had been involved. He  _ hoped _ no bones had but it did feel really…  _ bad _ . Maybe it’d nicked his pelvis but but it had just been wood right? Granted a pretty huge bit but… wood nonetheless. Surely that couldn’t chip or shatter bone. 

Lance gingerly slumped back down into his side-lean. Using the opportunity of Shiro’s attention being elsewhere to look down at himself. Clothes ripped and shredded and messy, blood smeared over his skin and the wound at his hip looking angry and raw. Not to mention the sight of bright green thread haphazardly holding the wound closed was more than a little disconcerting to see. “Heh you’re a certified boyscout now. Makin a f-fire n all. That’s how it works right? I dunno.” Lance tried to be upbeat, but even as he spoke he hung his head and let his eyes close again. Feeling light.  _ Sleep _ .

The fire was starting to catch and Shiro was thankful for the added warmth. Shiro chuckled, shaking his head at the half-hearted attempt Lance was making at being  _ positive _ about the whole thing. He could see the way the smaller man was swaying and struggling. Shiro adjusted himself, moving to sit with his legs crossed and patting at his leg lightly. "Here… If… it's not too weird, you can lean on me? Probably more comfortable than the ground for a pillow, at least." 

The sound of Shiro’s chuckle was warmer than the fire and Lance bit his lip as the other man settled and offered his lap for a pillow. “R-really?” Lance said, but he was already moving to take up the offer. Far too exhausted to  _ not _ and even despite feeling guilty about the other man not being comfortable. Lance lay on his right side, curling his knees up to his chest - well… his right knee, the left was still relatively straight. Shiro’s lap was comfortable and warm and Lance found himself nuzzling into the other man’s thigh with a soft sigh as he felt himself quickly falling into unconsciousness again. He wanted to say sorry, or at least warn Shiro that he might not respond but darkness swallowed him before he could make a sound. Body going limp and loose as a result.

Shiro nodded with a quiet hum, confirming his words. "It's fine, really." Shiro had to be at least a little pleased by how easily Lance took him up on the offer. He had to admit, it wasn't  _ just _ about making the smaller man more comfortable. No, the weight in his lap was a reassurance, a calming presence, and a reminder that he wasn't doing this alone, no matter how unknown or flat out  _ terrifying _ it was. 

Letting Lance get comfortable, Shiro didn't move at first, aside from a hitch of his breath at the nuzzling. They could get through this. He hoped. Shiro moved to get a bit more comfortable once he heard the other's breathing level out, trying to not move too much and risk waking him. He prodded more logs and fallen branches at the fire now and then, loading it up with everything he could reach when he felt himself starting to doze off where he sat, head propped up on his arm, elbow digging into the thigh not occupied by the sleeping stranger.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro wasn't sure how long he was out for. He didn't even really remember dozing off. Not really. The first thing he noticed on waking up was pain and his features contorted down into a crumpled grimace. But then he registered that there was a touch brushing against his skin, brushing across his lips. That… that felt nice. Soft and gentle and nothing like the rest of what he was feeling.

Lance woke when pain shot through his head in a stubborn throb choking out a groan and a soft sob. He  _ had _ to stop crying all the time. Still, as Lance opened his eyes he was glad of the fact he hadn’t had any nightmares. He still wasn’t sure if he was asleep or passed out because of concussion but whatever it had been it was better than visions of dead people. Lance rolled onto his back with his head still propped in Shiro’s lap, glancing up at the darkened sky and then the other man’s face

Dried blood was smeared across Shiro’s nose and the lower half of his face, but the wound seemed more superficial than anything. It would definitely scar, but from the close proximity now Lance could see that it wasn’t horrifically deep. Plus it was already scabbing at the edges. That was good, it had to  _ hurt _ , but it was good that it was already beginning to heal up. 

Shiro looked peaceful as he dozed, Lance - still groggy - lifted his hand to gingerly stroke at the other man’s cheek and thumb across blood crusted lips. The warmth and light from the fire danced across Shiro’s fine features in a way that made Lance wish they hadn’t been through this. He’d wanted to get to know Shiro normally. Spend the flight doing that whole awkward flirting thing, maybe get the guy's number and text and one day meet up. Maybe… become something more. Lance felt his eyes welling up and overflowing again as fear gripped him once more. No one had come yet, it had been  _ hours _ and there was no sign of life other than the birds in the trees. He had a sinking feeling, they were going to die of exposure or starvation or dehydration… possibly even infection.

Shiro wasn't sure how long he was out for. He didn't even really remember dozing off. Not really. The first thing he noticed on waking up was pain and his features contorted down into a crumpled grimace. But then he registered that there was a touch brushing against his skin, brushing across his  _ lips _ . That… that felt nice. Soft and gentle and nothing like the rest of what he was feeling. 

Waking up, Shiro let out a groggy sound, eyes blinking open slowly. It seemed like they took longer to focus than usual but he blinked a few more times and his gaze cleared. "Mnh…? H-hey…" Shiro's voice cracked and he cleared his throat, swallowing a few times in an attempt to moisten his mouth. He sat up properly, stretching stiff muscles with a mostly-stifled groan. 

Lance froze for a fraction when Shiro grimaced but then his expression softened again and he brushed the lips one last time. Despite the blood dried upon them they felt plump and soft. Lance pulled his hand away when Shiro opened his eyes to glance down blearily at him, the smaller man doing his best to pull his features into a soft smile. 

Shiro had to resist the urge to press a kiss against the fingers pressed to his lips. It was such a soft gesture, it had his heart doing a little flip. Softness and sweet gestures had no place in… this chaos. But he latched onto it. Distantly, he wondered whether he would have been able to steal a kiss before they landed. If they'd landed. Not that the question mattered in the end, really.  

“Hey.” He returned, voice raw. “Sorry, I stopped you getting comfortable.” Lance mumbled, rolling onto his right side and pushing himself into a half sit again. He’d hoped the nausea was gone by the time he woke, but apparently it was still there.

"Mh… no, it's fine…" Shiro shook his head with a slight smile. "I'm just happy if you got some halfway decent rest." Lance needed it. They both did but hopefully he could at least help the other man. 

“I… Yeah I guess it was fine. I didn’t have any nightmares.” Lance looked sheepish, paling at the thought of the  _ next time _ he’d have to sleep. The  _ next time _ he might face the horrific images of the bodies torn asunder. 

Lance shivered harshly after sitting up, losing the warmth of Shiro’s body coupled with the chill in the air now that it was getting truly dark. “You think they’re looking for us? I… I hope… so.” Lance’s breath hitched and he swiped at his eyes with irritation at how much of a crybaby he still was despite being twenty-two. He could still smell the engine fire in the air, the orange glow far off indicating it was still burning and he hoped it didn’t turn into a forest fire. Lance was sure he could smell the coppery tang of blood and the sick stench of death as well, but the blood was probably  _ theirs _ and the death was likely in his mind. Far too fresh yet to be that odious. 

The question when Lance sat up had Shiro's chest tightening for a moment. "I… they have to be. They'd know by now that something happened. It's… probably just taking a little while longer because we're in a forest so they'd need… helicopters or something." He gestured around them. "Not exactly many roads around here. But I'm sure it won't be long now." He was glad he managed to sound more confident than he felt. 

Shiro’s attempt at reassuring words did little to quell the anxiety Lance was feeling but he appreciated them more than he could express. He wished he was more like Shiro. Even though the other man had to be breaking inside just as much as Lance was falling apart on the outside. 

“I’m… scared.” Lance admitted, stating the obvious. He pulled himself closer to Shiro and ducked his head to press his forehead against the larger man’s shoulder. Trying to calm himself and take comfort in the contact Lance lifted his hand and wrapped it around Shiro’s wrist carefully. All of his motions slow and gentle in case he’d cause more harm by being selfish. “I’ll… try and get more fire stuff in a sec just… just… let me stay here for a moment.. Please.”

Shiro bit his lip with a sad, subdued smile at the admission. Of course Lance was scared. He was scared too. It would have been more strange for him to  _ not _ be. When he suddenly had the warm press of Lance's forehead against his shoulder, Shiro couldn't help a slight shudder. He hummed a negative, tipping his head to rest his cheek against the top of Lance's head. 

Lance was glad of the press of Shiro’s cheek against the back of his head, that he was allowed to lean on the other man like this. The  _ kiss _ was unexpected but not unwelcome, and whilst before all of this it would have left him a spluttering mess of embarrassment all Lance found from it now was  _ comfort _ . Comfort and distraction. All he wanted to do was forget everything and curl up on Shiro’s lap. 

"No it's… it's okay. Stay… Just… as long as you want, okay?" Tentatively, Shiro turned to press a light kiss against the top of the other man's head before resting his cheek there again instead. "Being scared is normal… I'm… I am too. But we just… Need to keep going, that's all. We'll get through this and then we'll have some really good stories to tell, right?" He huffed out a laugh that sounded more forced than he would have liked. 

Lance couldn’t forget everything and curl up in Shiro’s lap, though, no matter how much he wanted to, they didn’t have the luxury for that. So the kiss, light and brief, was more than enough to soothe Lance’s soul for a moment. 

Shiro reveled in the contact, knowing they would have to move soon to get more firewood to last them through the night. The best bet would probably be to head back towards the wreckage. There were plenty of larger felled and broken branches there. It was the last place Shiro wanted to go back to. Still, the distant point of light from the burning there was a good reference point to not get lost coming and going. 

“H-heh… good stories. I- I got wood and the hot guy I was sitting next to g-got to yank it f-for me.” Lance half laughed half sobbed. It was both a horrible memory and a funny way of wording it. “Still… not the kinda w-wood I was hoping you’d tug on.” Lance snorted and shook his head lightly.

The way Lance worded his comment had Shiro blinking before he snorted, shaking his head slightly. "Agreed. But… Once we get out of here… And… obviously… patched up… I wouldn't… be opposed to the idea, at least?" Shiro shrugged slightly, moving to rest his hand over Lance's on his arm. "I'm going to see what I can find to keep this fire going, okay? You just sit for a while." He reluctantly pulled away before he could talk himself into staying, standing and picking his way through towards the other fire. 

Lance blinked and lifted his eyebrows though Shiro couldn’t see the expression.  _ Once we get out of here _ . Not ‘if’ but when… Shiro was basically saying he wanted to touch Lance’s dick. Which was all well and good but he felt like he might choke on his own spit at the offer. “Y-yeah that… it’s a date…” He said lamely, making a forlorn noise when the other man pulled away to gather more firewood.

Shiro moved back and forth, snapping off the thickest branches that he could and stacking them into a pile at the halfway point. Then it was back and forth again, grabbing up as many of them as he could carry under one arm each time. He did his best to avoid using his right arm, finding that using it only  _ hurt _ more than doing anything actually useful. Some sorts of nerves in there were definitely not pleased with having metal shoved into them. Soon enough, it was properly dark but Shiro had accumulated a pile a few steps from the fire that he hoped would last them until morning. 

He was  _ fine _ … okay, he  _ wasn’t _ fine. He wanted to help but his leg was a useless peice of shit right now, Lance wished he could move about more. Still, when Shiro was far enough away that Lance couldn’t see him through the gloom the smaller man crawled around the edges of the small camp they’d made and pulled together a messy and haphazard pile of smaller kindling and leaves. When Shiro was finally back Lance crawled to kneel behind the other man, sitting back on his heels and yanking off the remains of his shirt. “Lemmie… lemmie just… do something. Cuz leaving it like this is bad.” Lance said without indicating he’d half stripped. 

“I’m gonna move your arm a bit. Okay? S-sorry if it hurts, I think it will feel a bit better though.” Lance bit his lip and kept biting as he wrapped an arm over Shiro’s left shoulder, gently sliding his other between the man’s right arm and his ribs along with the bulk of the shirt fabric. He caught the edge of it with the hand to the left and carefully, slowly, went about making Shiro a sort of sling. 

Shiro stiffened when Lance was suddenly behind him, talking about doing something. He didn't want his arm to be touched. And it was obvious enough that that was what Lance was planning on doing. It was fine, it was fine as long as no one touched it. So why did Lance have to want to go and touch it. "I- I-" Shiro tried to form a protest but faltered as there were suddenly arms wrapping around him, slinging his arm close to his chest. 

Only satisfied when he’d made sure the knots weren’t going to come undone and the fabric was secure Lance moved to carefully rubbing the other man’s shoulders. Ignoring the pain in his fingertips and palm where the tiny cubes of glass had sliced him open on the crawl away from the craft, and the metal when he’d pulled it free of Shiro’s arm. “Does that feel okay? L-like I didn’t make it hurt more right? I mean… if we just leave it hanging more stuff could happen and there’s less strain on it like this… I… if it’s bad I’ll try to fix it.”

Hesitating, Shiro relented, gritting his teeth as the movements made it sting more. But then it was done and Lance was rubbing at his shoulders instead. Shiro sighed, nodding slightly. "It's fine… I… thank you. That… it helps…" Shiro pulled away to turn and face Lance, frowning at his shirtlessness. "But you're going to get too cold like this…" It wasn't  _ that _ cold but it certainly wasn't any kind of weather to be shirtless. He glanced back at the wreckage, wondering if any of the blankets had survived. But… it was too dark to properly look now… "You're sleeping with me. At least hopefully we can keep warm together that way."

Lance watched his own hands moving across Shiro’s broad shoulders and let himself fall into a sort of trance. There but not really  _ there _ until Shiro was moving and turning and frowning at him. Lance blinked, hands still mid air before he let them fall to his sides limply as he looked down at himself. It was chilly, for sure, but he’d dealt with worse that one winter when his heat was out for a week. Still… it was sort of embarrassing taking note of how slight of frame he was, nipples peaked from chill and dark black bruises peeking out across his hips and stomach from beneath the hem of his pants. That would be where the seatbelt crushed into him when they crashed, then. Also why his hips hurt so bad all over instead of just where he’d been impaled.

“Hnh…” Lance tugged the hem down slightly with his thumb and winced as the fabric stuck to the fresh fabric burn grazes beneath. Okay nope he wasn’t going to do that again. 

Shiro let his gaze flick down over the mess of bruises. It really looked like those had to hurt a lot. His theory was only further proven when Lance tugged at his waistband and flinched as if he'd been stung. 

Lance piped up again. “I’m fine, really. I’m like.. A human radiator… apparently?” Of course that just meant other people found Lance warm, not that he felt it all the time but Shiro didn’t need to know that. 

The other man was also  _ really _ skinny and Shiro couldn't help but think he would get cold quickly. Despite his insistence that he was 'a human radiator'. Shiro didn't want to risk waking up to Lance having died of hypothermia or something during the night. 

“B-but hey if you’re coming onto me so strong who am I to turn you down.” Lance gave another watery laugh and eyed the fire before scooting around to the other side of Shiro and lying down on his side. Since his right was the uninjured one Lance lay on that, head cradled by his bent arms as he faced the other man. It was weird but… the fire was warm on his back and he couldn’t rest on the other side. “Th-this okay?”

When Lance offered up his line before he moved and lay down, Shiro snorted, shaking his head. He let the other man get comfortable, chewing at his lip while he watched him moving and settling in. It hadn't escaped his notice that they would have to lay on opposite sides and therefore either facing each other or facing away. Not how he'd imagined winding up sleeping with Lance.

Lance tried to ignore the way that everything throbbed and ached. Unlike before he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep quite as easily. He hoped he  _ could _ though, because if he was sleeping then hours could tick by without him  _ actually _ having to live through them. Well, be  _ conscious _ through them at least. Even though he knew they’d have to find food and water soon, even though he knew that meant going back to the wreckage to try and find something. 

"So tell me…" Shiro mused, moving to lay himself down as well. He felt anxious about having his functioning arm under him but the idea of sleeping on the other one made him preemptively cringe so there wasn't really a choice in the matter. "Are you in the habit of badly hitting on bloody men with half-severed limbs or am I just special?" His lips quirked up slightly at the edges. They were close but there was still a small amount of space between them. Space Shiro wasn't sure if he should cross. Space small enough that he found himself entertaining the idea of kissing the other man.

“Hmnh?” Lance blinked and lifted his gaze to the other man’s face when he was spoken to, their proximity more comforting than he’d thought. “W-well….” Lance cleared his throat and swallowed thickly, glancing to the side and toward the dark canopy of the trees all around them. 

Shiro let his gaze wander slowly over the other man's face, feeling drowsy and exhausted, the earlier exertion and lack of proper rest finally catching up to him. Sitting upright didn't make for the most  _ restful _ rest, apparently. Still, having Lance close to him like that had been… calming. And even now he found the warmth of Lance's body so close to him to be reassuring. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever met a bloody guy.. With h-half severed limbs. So I guess you’re just...special. Heh.” Lance could feel heat radiating off of the other man, tempting and impossible to ignore as he shuffled closer. As close as he could without trapping Shiro’s injured arm against his body, his hand moving to gently grip the other man’s shirt just above his hip. “I’m glad…” His voice cracked. “I’m glad… you s-survived too…” Lance’s breath hitched, shoulders shaking as he tried not to cry again. 

At the response to his question, Shiro huffed out a slight laugh, smile weaker at the edges than he would have liked it to be but still there. But then Lance was curling in closer to him, holding onto his shirt. Shiro blinked before letting his smile broaden, albeit more subdued. With his left arm acting as his only pillow between himself and the hard ground, he tipped his head, nudging his nose against the other man's cheek. "Shh… Shh… it's okay… Breathe… But… same." Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, it seemed, but at least the company was friendly. 

Lance leaned into the nudging of Shiro’s nose against his cheek. The action was  _ cute _ and sweet and he wondered in the back of his mind if it  _ hurt _ the other man with that gash across the bridge of his nose. But he drank the attention in greedily, like a man starved even though his parents could be smothering in how much affection they gave him. This was…  _ different _ . It quelled his tears before they began and he made a soft sound under his breath. Lance tilted his head then, looking at Shiro’s face and feeling like a fool. 

It  _ did _ sting Shiro's face to nuzzle at Lance like that; it pulled at the weakly formed scab across the gash on his nose. But he didn't care. The soft breath that the smaller man let out was more than worth the little bit of discomfort to his face. When he pulled back, his brows quirked curiously at the way Lance was looking at him. It looked like he was looking for something or debating something. 

This was definitely not the time or place for what he wanted to do. But… what if they didn’t make it out alive? “Shiro…” Lance whispered the other man’s name before biting his lip. “Sorry, but… just for a moment…” He apologised and then quickly tipped his head more, leaning in and pressing a clumsy but soft kiss against the other man’s lips. It was selfish and crazy but at least… he could die with one lifetime goal crossed off his list, though Lance  _ knew _ if it was anyone else it wouldn’t have happened. There had already been that fluttering attraction, that flirty interaction before any of this. No… Lance liked Shiro, he’d liked him all along even if it was still just that shallow, first meeting sort of like. After a moment Lance pulled away and bit his lip, ducking his head to hide his expression. He could taste blood, probably Shiro’s.

Shiro hummed questioningly in response to his name but then Lance was answering the unasked question and  _ kissing him. _ Shiro's eyes widened briefly before falling shut until Lance pulled away. A shaky breath passed between the larger man's lips and he licked them reflexively, the taste of metallic blood bitter and familiar against his tongue. "Oh… that was… you…" 

Lance had  _ kissed _ him. Outright flat out kissed him. It was… entirely the wrong setting, the wrong scenario, the embodiment of a cliche. Shiro didn't care. It felt  _ good. _ For those few brief moments he could focus entirely on something that didn't involve one of them  _ hurting. _ Shiro bit his lip, shifting until he could bring his left arm between them to urge Lance to look at him again. "What makes you think you have to apologise for that?" It was Shiro's turn to shift forward then, catching Lance in a firmer kiss, not wanting to risk pushing things further. 

Lance wasn’t sure how he could still blush when there was so much blood  _ outside _ of his body where it shouldn’t have been. But he did anyway when Shiro stumbled across his words afterwards. Embarrassed and feeling like he’d made a faux pas Lance didn’t move to look at the other man again until Shiro shifted and urged his gaze upward. 

“I… I just… sort of d-did it without askin-mnhh.” Lance began whispering his response but was silenced effectively by the returned kiss. This time it was surer and firmer, he could still taste blood but he didn’t care. It wasn’t too strong anyway and the press of Shiro’s lips on his was the first  _ real _ pleasant sensation for what seemed like a very long time. Whilst it didn’t make him  _ forget _ the pain in his body it was certainly a little easier to deal with for the time their lips were pressed. 

Shiro couldn't help but be amused by the way that he was able to cut off Lance's words so easily. It was just a kiss. But it was still a kiss. Again, it gave him--gave them  _ both _ , probably--something else to focus on. It didn't make everything else magically better, of course, but it was  _ something _ , something  _ good. _

He fisted his hand in the fabric at Shiro’s hip more tightly for a moment before pulling away again with a gasp for breath, having held it when they were mid kiss in his inexperience. He fumbled over a stutter that cracked his voice but was ultimately wordless, blinking rapidly and glancing to the side again as his face burned.

Breath hitching slightly at the tighter grip against his shirt, Shiro blinked when Lance pulled away gasping. He paused, watching the way the other man blushed and stuttered over his words before looking away. It was like he hadn't breathing at all when they were…  _ Oh. _ But no… surely Lance had had at least a few boyfriends or girlfriends or  _ something. _ The guy was cute, he had to have… 

Lance caught his breath easily enough, most of the gasping sensation in his chest caused by emotion as opposed to actual air hunger. He’d say his lips were tingling from the contact but that sort of thing wasn’t  _ real _ it was something in romance novels to make them all flowery and feelsy. But… they really  _ did _ feel tingly, pleasant. He wanted to do it again but he also knew Shiro needed to rest, the other man had done far more than Lance to get them warm and settled after all. Hell  _ he _ needed rest but he didn’t think it would come easy.

Shiro had to know now. "I… Have you never…  _ kissed _ anyone before…?" 

When Shiro asked his question Lance’s stomach flip flopped and he cleared his throat again. He shouldn’t feel  _ ashamed _ of it right? But somehow it was still humiliating. “I- I.. well you know… um… I’m sort of… painfully awkward if I like someone, like I was on the plane. And that… well I mean that sort of.. Made it hard to get the guts up to do it. A-and I didn’t ever wanna drunk kiss anyone cuz… I dunno… I’m lame, it’s important to me. Plus… I used to be too much of a pussy to speak to anyone I liked and no one ever approached me so…” Lance squirmed as he spoke. Stumbling over his words in quick succession.

Shiro tilted his head slightly in encouragement as Lance cleared his throat. It was obvious what the answer was just from his body language but he waited as the slim man explained himself anyway. It was cute, hearing him stumble over his words, obviously embarrassed by his own inexperience. Shiro hummed in understanding. Important. Yet Lance had given his first kiss away to a relative stranger. He hoped that wasn't  _ too much _ due to him being worried about making it through this, although it was a possibility. 

But rather than voicing that worry, Shiro instead pressed another kiss to Lance's temple before settling himself back down. "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. It's sort of cute, really. I'm flattered. I only… wish it could have been better circumstances." 

Lance murred slightly at the kiss to his head, the reassuring words a small comfort to his embarrassment. Even if being called  _ cute _ made his stomach flip flop again, he wished he didn’t feel so damn nauseous. “Y-yeah… me too…” Lance admitted, though if he was honest the idea of kissing the other man had occurred to him before the crash too. Granted back then it was more a fantasy because he held no hope of things developing that much but… things hadn’t gone typically. At all.

Shiro blinked, groggy and sleepy, feeling himself fading at the edges of his consciousness. "Should… get some rest for now, though. Can… talk more in the morning." Shiro tried to fight it but he could feel his eyes closing, drawing him into darkness. 

“Mnh… I hope you sleep well.” Lance agreed, whispering as he watched Shiro’s body slowly going limp with sleep. It seemed like forever as he lie there awake, the silence was eerie and every time a twig snapped or a bush rustled he felt his heart slam into his throat thinking it could be a bear or something. The crackling fire at his back was sa soothing constant, along with Shiro’s breathing. The two things combined eventually being what lulled Lance into a fitful sleep that had him whimpering and sobbing at intervals as he dreamed. Or rather, had nightmares about what had transpired.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking from an uncomfortable and exhaustion driven sleep, Lance and Shiro make a discovery and take a moment to try and make their situation less bleak.

Even with his exhaustion and injuries, Shiro couldn't manage to sleep long. He never did, usually, but he didn't expect that he would wake before it was even properly light out. The sky was just starting to lighten up above them, the sun probably only barely peeking over the horizon, wherever it was. Glancing back down to the sleeping figure in front of him, Shiro could see the tracks of dried tears on the other man's face. Lance had been crying, although he wasn't sure if it was waking tears or fitful nightmares. 

In the relative silence of the early morning, with Lance asleep next to him, Shiro had time to think. To think and to worry. They hadn't been found yet. It had been hours and hours. Soon it would be a full day. It meant somehow… somehow whatever search and rescue team was sent out was having a hard time getting to them. Or else… having a hard time  _ finding _ them. He knew they always did things like that as fast as possible, the news said as much. God, how long would they have to fend for themselves in this godforsaken forest? Too long, it was already much too long. Shiro's attention drifted back to Lance and he couldn't resist shifting to brush a hand over one pink cheek. Chilly. They would have to find blankets or  _ something _ to cover him up with. 

Lance slept deeply but tensely. The brush of a gentle hand to his cheek was enough to stir him, though. A heavy sob erupting out of him before he blinked sleepy eyes open with a harsh shiver. Lance spent the next few moments trying to get the unshed tears out of his sleep blurred vision, leaning into the touch to his cheek at the same time. He remembered every flash of gory imagery in his nightmares, his head was throbbing painfully with his pulse and his stomach hurt even more than before.

Shiro's brow quirked down at the sob but he forced his expression back into something more neutral by the time that Lance started blinking his eyes open. He kept his touch where it was, fingers moving lightly against the other man's skin. 

Belatedly Lance realised the extra pain was because his bladder was at bursting point, the swollen organ pushing against the deep bruising above his crotch. “Ngh.. mornin’.” Lance said in a strained tone as he rolled onto his back and grimaced, pressing a hand low over his bladder and gritting his teeth. He needed to move away so he could pee, but his body was stiff with cold and all of his injuries. Seized up after so long of being immobile. He debated just peeing himself where he lie, would have if Shiro wasn’t right next to him. The flash of memory of pissing himself on the plane as it went down felt humiliating enough. “ _ Shit _ .” Lance whispered under his breath, finally pushing himself to a half sitting position with shaking arms.

The strained tone of the other's words was concerning to say the least. And when he pressed a hand low over his abdomen, Shiro had to wonder if it was from his wound. But… it wasn't low enough and… he seemed to be holding much too much to the middle, even slightly to the wrong side. 

"Hey… Hey are you alright…? You're hurting? More than before?" Shiro couldn't even begin to guess what the cause of the smaller man's discomfort was. There could be any of a dozen reasons. Not the least of which were those  _ bruises _ on his stomach. God what if he had some kind of internal bleeding? Those were supposed to be slow, weren't they? Shiro sat up quickly as he could, moving a hand to set it on Lance's shoulder. "What can I do?" 

Lance bit his lip and sucked on it as Shiro showed his concern, humiliation coiling in his gut like a trembling ball. “A-ah… um…” Lance blinked and looked at Shiro as the other man sat up so quickly, how the hell did he have the energy to be able to do that? Wasn’t his body stiff like a rusting old machine too? 

Shiro's body protested every movement, urging him to stay still and rest, but concern and worry took precedence over that. It made him move, pushed him into acting, into not wanting to sit still. Lance definitely didn't  _ look _ okay. Not with the way he was gritting his teeth and looking as if he was struggling. 

“I’m okay I just…” Lance grit his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment in desperation. “It h-hurts. My bladder. I… I need um… y’know…” Lance admitted squeakily, hoping that his point got across as he did his best to try and stand so he could go and relieve himself. But he’d miscalculated again, his left leg still unable to support his weight and he fell to his knees hard.  _ Fuck _ . “Shiro… sorry but.. Could you help me stand l-like… move away I really need to go… it hurts too much I can’t hold it.”

Shiro nearly opened his mouth to reprimand him that they needed to stick together and speak up if something was wrong. But then Lance was offering up his admission.  _ Oh. _ Oh he just had to  _ piss. _ Okay. That was… Better than internal bleeding. Even if it did bring up a slight blush to Shiro's cheeks. 

When Lance stood and suddenly fell again, Shiro scooted up onto his knees quickly, setting his hand back on the other man's shoulder. That looked painful. Lance was… asking him for help. Help standing and moving away from their camp so he could  _ pee. _ Shiro swallowed and nodded, moving to hook Lance's arm over his shoulder and his own around the other man's waist.

Lance was glad for the comforting hand that found it’s way to his shoulder again, his knees hurt from the impact but the ground was loamy enough for it not to cause too much pain. Or maybe it had but he was just in too much pain elsewhere to take much notice of it. Still, he held fast to Shiro’s shoulders when his arm was draped across them.

"On three, ready…? One… two… three." Shiro moved to tug the smaller man to his feet, glad that Lance was nothing short of scrawny and easy enough for Shiro to heft to his feet even in his current state. That done, he paused for a moment to let Lance gather himself before urging him off towards a nearby tree. 

The walk over to the tree was awkward and full of shame even though Lance knew they both had to pee at some point. When they were there he turned in Shiro’s hold, hooking the arm that had been over Shiro’s shoulder over the other man’s arm that was now across Lance’s chest. The other hand moving down quickly to fumble at the ripped side of his pants near his wounded hip. “D-don’t...look…” God why did he  _ say _ that? It wasn’t like Shiro was going to perv on him in this situation. Lance winced as he reached inside and pulled his dick free, the bruising from his lower stomach mottling the base of his dick as well. 

Shiro stiffened slightly when Lance just turned in his hold, all but leaning on his side to hold him up. It made sense, of course, since Lance couldn't exactly stand on his own at all. But it was still… He had someone leaning on him while they  _ pissed _ . It was awkward, uncomfortable, and… yet also somehow appealing in a very  _ very _ guilty way that Shiro shoved down into the deepest darkest corners of his mind. 

Or rather, Shiro tried to. But being told to  _ 'not look' _ almost instantly made his gaze flick down to watch as Lance tugged himself free of his pants. He looked…  _ bruised up _ even there and Shiro flinched sympathetically. 

Without much of a chance to hold it any longer Lance relieved himself with a slight shudder and a small noise of relief. Which turned to a quiet hiss as the act burned the inside of his dick. 

The size of Lance’s… If it looked like that soft, it would probably be rather  _ pretty _ when he was hard. Which was entirely not the observation Shiro should have been making when someone was relying on him to help them. Shiro looked away sharply, biting his lip at the relieved sound the other man let out. 

A full bladder's worth of pink-tinged pee took a surprisingly long time to come out when you were being held by someone else, but when he was done Lance tucked himself back in and wiped his hand off on his intact pants leg. “K-kay… thanks…” He didn’t mention the blood in his pee, it wasn’t like it had been bright red and thick. He’d be fine right? Lance turned to reposition himself so they could walk back to the fire.

The trickling of piss onto the ground seemed alarmingly loud and Shiro worried at his lip, tasting dried blood on his skin. It was taking  _ forever. _ How long could one guy pee for? A while, apparently. But finally the sound petered out and Shiro cleared his throat, nodding a few times as Lance adjusted himself and turned in his grasp again. "Yeah… Right of course, no problem." 

As Shiro started them back towards the fire and got Lance seated again, he was suddenly almost  _ glad _ for the pain in his arm keeping him from popping an inconvenient and very inappropriate boner.

Lance dropped back to a sitting position gratefully, his uninjured leg feeling shaky with exertion just after that. Maybe he should have eaten at the airport before getting on the plane, but he’d been way too nervous to. It was certainly coming back to bite him in the ass now though. Even though he wasn’t actively hungry, his body certainly wanted the energy.

"I'm just going to uh… yeah. Same. Add some more wood to the fire, would you?" Shiro said and ducked away, opting to duck behind a few trees before relieving himself. He took an extra moment, forehead leaned against the bark of the tree, to ground himself before heading back to their camp and sitting back down. This was inappropriate. Quiet sleepy kisses were one thing. Ogling someone while they were taking a piss was another thing entirely.  

“Ah, yeah sure.” Lance watched Shiro moving away for a moment before ducking his head and swiping a hand down his face. Well, at least the embarrassment of peeing was over, this time he’d even missed getting it on himself. Lance shifted over to the pile of wood and added some to the dwindling fire, it caught quickly and he leaned into the crackling warmth with a pleased sigh. When Shiro sat back down Lance smiled at him as best he could, he wanted to ask if the other man had any issues peeing too, but without Shiro knowing about the blood in Lance’s urine that would definitely be… a  _ really _ weird question to ask. So he didn’t. “Y’know… we should..” Lance hesitated, looking over his shoulder toward the crash site where the glow of fire was no longer visible. “We need to… look for water… f-food.” His mouth felt dry remembering the bodies. 

Shiro returned the wobbly smile, still feeling awkward about his own apparent perversion. He nodded slightly a moment later when Lance mentioned finding food and  _ water. _ His mouth felt even drier at the thought. Even though it meant going back to the wreckage again and even poking through things. Somehow that idea seemed even  _ worse _ now that he was a few more hours removed from it, sore and aching. 

“Maybe a phone... _ ah _ .” Lance said and then suddenly remembered his own. The pocket his ID had been in was long gone but the other side had his phone in it. He unzipped it and pulled it out with fumbling hands. The screen was smashed badly, but when he pressed the power button the unlock screen popped up and his heart leapt into his throat with a squeak. “I-It’s alive!” He blurted and fumbled to swipe the unlock away, fingertip catching on the rough edges of the smashed glass. It was slow to respond but unlocked, Lance instantly checked the signal only to find that there was none. An error message in his notifications about there not being a network.  _ “Fuck! _ ” Lance sobbed with frustration and dropped the phone beside himself as he covered his face with his hands.

When Lance mentioned finding a phone, Shiro tilted his head with a small nod. Shiro's had been tucked away into his carry-on, his tablet into the seat in front of him. He jolted a moment later when Lance squawked about his own phone. It was  _ working? _ But apparently with no  _ signal _ if the way the other man cursed and sobbed was any indication. Fuck. Of course there wouldn't be any signal in the middle of  _ nowhere. _ It only proved how remote the crash location was. Although… 

Shiro moved to snatch the phone up, poking at it as carefully as he could to turn on the location option. There wasn't a  _ signal _ but GPS was everywhere, right? They could at least find out where in the hell they were and what direction--and how  _ far _ \--civilization was. It looked like the middle of nowhere on the map. God they had a perfect map to where they were. If they could just… 

Standing abruptly, Shiro started to head back for the wreckage. "Hang on a second. I… This is probably crazy." He fumbled with taking a print-screen of the map page zoomed in and a few levels of zoomed out as he moved, smudging red across the screen as the shattered glass nicked his fingertip. Hoping with every ounce of his being, he pulled up the wifi networks.  _ Oh god. It was there. _ The plane's network was there, very faintly. It seemed to be fading in and out. 

Lance hadn’t thought his crushing hopelessness would get any worse until he’d seen the no signal message on his phone. Shiro taking his phone didn’t bother Lance at all, though the sudden way the man jumped up had him jolting and blinking with confusion. His stomach twisting in hope although he’d told himself  _ not _ to hope any more. 

Shiro tried to keep track of what direction he was coming from as he tracked down the signal and a few other chunks of plane, hunting for at least two or three bars of strength. He hoped Lance wouldn't mind as he pulled up Line and started to spam the same message with the photos to every contact as well as a facebook post. 'SOS plane crashed call rescue we ARE alive we are HERE help ASAP' and then signed off with their flight number. Desperate times, desperate measures. People had to have heard about this on the news by now. So hopefully someone at least--or ideally several someones--would get the message where it needed to get to. 

“Huh? S-shiro?” Lance turned and watched Shiro stumbling off, leaving him alone at the fire again. Unable to get up and follow on his own Lance took to looking around himself and their little campsite with paranoia. His breaths short and sharp as Shiro seemed to be gone forever. 

That done, Shiro found himself turned around and nearly stepped on someone--or… part of someone as he made his way back. Yelping, he staggered back, ankle twinging as he stumbled. It was… it was just a body. Of course there were bodies around. He swallowed hard and turned the phone off, shoving it into his pocket before tracing his steps back. He debated stopping by the wreckage to look for supplies but… The idea of stomaching it on his own was… Shiro bypassed it entirely, arriving back at the fire pale-faced but hopeful. 

By the time Shiro came back to the fire Lance had been quietly crying again for a short while, unable to stop it. He swiped at his features with the heels of dirty palms and tried to get himself under control again. “W-what happened?” Lance’s voice wavered as he spoke.

Shiro gnawed at his lip at seeing how Lance had been crying. The other man's attempt at wiping off his tears only smudged mud onto his cheeks. They were both a mess. He wasn't even sure if his message would be taken seriously. He really didn't want to get Lance's hopes up for nothing. But… Shiro thought they could both use a little bit of hope, a little bit of something concrete. 

"Well… I nearly tripped over something that I think was an arm…?" Shiro grimaced and shuddered at the recollection.

Lance shuffled closer to Shiro and remained there, as close as possible without physically  _ leaning _ all over the other man. “Eugh.” Lance grimaced when Shiro spoke of an arm, making a disgusted face as sorrow about the sheer amount of human loss surrounding them sank in again. But Shiro was continuing and Lance tilted his head slightly as he listened. 

"We  _ are _ in the middle of nowhere. According to the GPS we're somewhere in Alaska?" Shiro sighed, running his hand through his hair and hissing as the motion agitated the little cuts on his fingertips. "But. Here's the upshot. It's weak but… Somehow the battery that's running the wifi is still struggling to hang in there…" Shiro paused, looking at Lance. "So I took screenshots of where we are. At a few levels of zoom. And… I hope it's okay I… spammed it out to all your Line contacts. ...And your Facebook. With an SOS. So… Hopefully… someone you know will take it seriously? And they'll get it to the people who can send someone?" 

“Figures we’re in Alaska, bet we’re in like the most remote part possible too  _ fuck _ .” Lance swore. There were  _ Bears _ here, and wolves. Right? For  _ sure _ . Not just a maybe but a certainty. He hoped none were nearby, or if there were he hoped they stayed away, but the smell of death would probably attract them sooner or later. “How the… how the fuck is that still working??” Lance said in disbelief but… it meant people  _ knew _ . “Fuck, Shiro. Okay look we… we should take pictures of  _ us _ too okay and some of the wreckage because usually I’m a bit of a shit. I’m…. A lot of the time I’m not serious, cuz… it’s just  _ easier _ to be the butt of jokes intentionally okay? B-but…” 

Shiro shrugged, shaking his head. He had no idea how it was working, or how long it would  _ keep _ working. He nodded slightly at the suggestion of taking pictures of them. He'd been afraid of that, that people wouldn't take it seriously. Although, they probably wouldn't take it seriously from  _ most _ people. A plane crash. No one wanted to believe someone  _ they _ knew had something like that happen to them. It was something that happened to  _ other _ people, distant and unrelated and just something you saw on the evening news and forgot about two days later. 

“I mean they  _ should _ believe me but.. Just to be sure. To give some proof. Even if it’s grim?” Lance fumbled over his words and made to clumsily pat down Shiro’s pockets to try and find his phone again.

Shiro squawked at the sudden way that Lance was grabbing at him. He knew  _ why _ the other man was doing it but it didn't make it any less sudden or unexpected. He fumbled for his pockets, tugging out the phone and shoving it back at Lance. "There, here, take it. Just… we have to try to not get… To just get the machinery in the pictures as much as possible. If those pictures get around… those people's families… They don't need to see that." Shiro scooted closer to sit right next to Lance. "We could do a video with the pictures, give our names, but it might just take too much battery, I'm not sure." It felt oddly tense, final, like this was their last chance to get their message out there, to get help. 

Lance’s cheeks reddened in realisation when Shiro shoved the phone at him and nodded as he clutched at it. Well… he hadn’t  _ meant _ to grope the other man, he should probably learn to think before he acted but Lance had been telling himself that for years. “K-kay. Yeah. I mean of  _ course _ not get any body parts in the pictures. My Ma.. She’s on my facebook it would give her a heart attack or something let alone all the others.” 

Shiro nodded shakily when Lance agreed to the video. 

Lance turned the phone back on, feeling pleased that it had a decent battery life and appreciating that for possibly the first time in his life. “I think it should be fine to make a short video. H-here, let’s do that here before we take any pictures of the wreckage…” Lance tapped through the phone, his own fingers catching on the glass but they were already cut enough to barely notice. He opened his camera, changed it to video mode and then held it up with a slightly shaking hand. The front camera had a crack across the glass covering it but it seemed to show them just fine, perhaps some blurring along the crack line but it was hard to tell through the shattered screen. It was good enough. “R-ready?” Lance asked before pressing record.

When he was asked if he was ready, Shiro took a short, sharp breath before huffing it back out again with another slight, jerky nod. He was as ready as he could get. 

Lance began speaking. “Um… M-maybe some of you thought I was making a bad joke, Sorry… I wasn’t. I’m… I’m alive… me and one other.” His voice was wavering, already feeling tears filling his eyes. “We’re hurt… T-the GPS location is where we are I don’t know how but please, someone try and get it to the people who will b-be looking for the plane…. M-mami… Papi… I… I’m sorry for worrying you. I love you.” He did start to cry then, ducking his head but trying to keep the camera levelled on them both.

Listening to the Lance's voice wavering had Shiro’s hand shaking slightly in his lap. He tried to keep looking at the camera but wound up very quickly just looking at Lance instead. 

When Lance trailed off, Shiro reached over to take the smaller man's free hand with his own. He gave it a slight squeeze before looking back at the camera. "My name is Takashi Shirogane. Everything Lance said is true. We went down somewhere over Alaska. You have the location. The other passengers…" Shiro shook his head, swallowing before trying again. "We're the only ones who made it out. We're alive. But we need help. Soon. We're both pretty hurt and… Well the sooner we can both get a doctor, the better. So please. Get this message out there. Get it where it needs to go so we can get help." 

Lance was glad of the hand in his as Shiro started his own speech. His breaths shaking as he tried to keep them controlled and quiet as to not outright sob over Shiro’s message. Still, now he knew Shiro’s actual  _ full _ name. Takashi... Shiro was a nickname but it suited him somehow but the knowledge of the man’s first name in full made him feel somewhat closer to him.

Shiro swallowed hard again, letting out a shaky breath. This was harder than he'd expected. "I ask that… If the worst happens, this message gets to my parents in Tokyo… Shinpai shinpaishinaide. Daijoubu. Mou kowakunai. Hitori ja nai. Daijoubu. That's… that's really all I can say… Lance just… make it stop, I can't." Shiro looked away, shaking his head with eyes clenched shut, determined to not outright cry on camera. 

“Mngh… b-bye for now… Hope to see you all soon.” Lance ended the message on that note and untangled his hand from Shiro’s to press the stop button. He let the hand with the phone drop heavily to his lap -making his injuries twinge - his muscles burning just from that as he outright sobbed now that it was off. Lance turned his body enough to wrap his arms carefully around Shiro’s waist in a trembling hug, trying both to offer and gain some comfort.

Shiro let out a shaky breath, the first sob cracking out of him at the loss of Lance's hand in his. It was just a hand but it was like a lifeline to him, keeping him connected. Without it, he felt  _ lost. _ Thankfully the video was ended and the phone was down. He knew they had to get the video out sooner rather than later, while the signal was still working. They had to just… get it out there. 

But Lance was wrapping his arms around him and Shiro did his best to cling back with his left arm. He pressed a few kisses to the top of Lance's head, holding him closer as he vented out some of the tears that had built up. They stung against the cut slicing across his face, making him all the more aware of how  _ bad _ that had looked on camera. It was definitely going to scar pretty blatantly. He was just lucky it wasn't  _ deep. _ He still had a  _ nose. _ That was something. 

Lance revelled in the kisses to the top of his head, finding comfort in the gesture as they held each other. The sound of Shiro sobbing was particularly heartbreaking to him. The other man had been so put together, so strong until now that it was jarring and made Lance reaffirm that the other man was  _ just _ as traumatised as he was. It was painfully sobering.

Shiro stayed like that for he wasn't sure how long, breaths hitching between quiet sobs before finally pulling back, rubbing carefully at his cheeks. "Okay…  _ ow _ . Salt stings cuts…" He prodded at the wound on his face gently. "Shit… Okay. We should… g-get the pictures and get this out there b-before the signal dies." 

“Mnh… of course it does.” Lance pulled back too, gently using his thumb to swipe at the tears still clinging to Shiro’s jawline. Without thinking too much Lance leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth before pulling back and fumbling to put the phone back onto camera mode. Shifting to his knees as he got ready to stand he glanced around them for a moment. “If…. if we can find a big stick, like… I could use that to try and help me walk. Find something to bundle up at the top and shove it under my armpit? I mean… that way you’d be able to walk without more burden and we could cover a bit more ground…” Lance fidgeted. “B-but stay close to each other I…. I can’t… being alone is.... I can’t stand it…”

Shiro huffed out a shaky breath, leaning into the thumb moving across his jaw slightly. The gentle kiss was unexpected but welcome, tugging a small quirk to the corner of his lip where Lance's lips had been pressed a moment before. He sniffled slightly, wiping at his eyes again. He moved up onto his knees as well, hooking his arm around Lance how he had earlier to get him standing. 

"Yeah… That… That sounds like a good idea." Shiro nodded, mumbling a slight warning before tugging Lance up and to his feet again. "Maybe by the wreckage. There's some… big downed branches. So we can probably find something strong enough. But not alone, no. I don't think I…" Shiro trailed off, shaking his head. "Being together is… better. ...Should we get a picture together before we head over? Or do you want to just… get that done first?" He wondered how long it would take for someone to come. 

Lance leaned into the hold and did his best to support his weight as much as he could as he was helped to stand. With his phone still in hand Lance nodded when Shiro asked about the photo of them together. “N-now’s good. Try to keep it positive huh…” Lance wavered again as he angled the phone up to catch both of their faces and torsos in the shot. He gave his best attempt at a smile that he could, sad and tired and mucky as he waited for Shiro to be ready. When the shot looked decent enough Lance took the photo, then on a sad little impulse he turned and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s lower cheek as he snapped another one. “Just… just s-something positive to look back on…” He stuttered before shoving his phone into his pocket again. 

Shiro did his best to smile for the first photo, feeling tired and fatigued again, more emotionally than anything. His face stung and it made him all the more aware of how his arm and the other various scrapes and bruises hurt too. The kiss to his cheek had Shiro's eyes widening slightly, a blush drawing up on his cheeks as he laughed slightly in surprise, feeling a warm flutter in his chest. They both looked like hell but… Lance was right, at least they had each other. Hell, that was part of what he'd offered up in the video, the reassurance that he wasn't alone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Shiro try to find a stronger wi-fi signal before it dies completely, as well as making an attempt at locating some much needed fluids.

The trek closer to the wifi hub seemed to take forever but Lance spied the severed arm Shiro must have been speaking of before. Scrunching his face unhappily at the sight as he got his phone out and took pictures of the tail end of the plane. Luckily there were fewer bodies here, he was certain he hadn’t got any body parts in the few shots he took either. With that done Lance shakily opened his facebook and bundled the images - except the one where he was kissing Shiro on the cheek - and the video into a status and clicked upload. 

As they picked their way back towards the signal, Shiro tried to keep his gaze from wandering to the various debris around them. He succeeded, for the most part, letting Lance handle the pictures and uploading them. 

When the files were uploaded Lance clicked on the notifications, two comments on the post Shiro had written so far. One asking if he was joking and that if he was it was in bad taste as there had been a crash - ‘didn’t he know?’. The other was Hunk asking if it was Lance updating this or someone else. Asking if Lance was okay, swearing a lot… which was unlike Hunk. Lance sobbed and replied it was him, that he had to turn off his phone to save power now but he was alive. With that done he powered the device off and shoved it in his pocket, zipping it up again and cuffing at his eyes.  

Shiro couldn't help looking over the other man's shoulder when he started sobbing and typing out a reply to a message. When the phone was safely away, Shiro couldn't resist piping up with the question on his mind. 

"Is that uhm… the… friend you were talking to on the plane or…? Sorry… Not my place to ask. We should find you a walking stick." He shook his head quickly. He didn't know a damn thing about Lance, really. Or who Lance's friends were. Or… more than friends? The man beside him had been comfortable with that guy to covertly send him Shiro's picture on the plane, after all, so they  _ could _ have been more than that. The idea made his gut clench but he ignored it.

Shiro’s question was unexpected but not unwelcome and Lance smiled fondly. “Hunk? Yeah… yeah it is.” Shiro’s apology had Lance leaning his head on the other man’s shoulder for a moment in reassurance. “It’s fine, honest. Talk to me about anything, ask anything… it’s better than silence or talking about depressing stuff all the time right?” He sighed and started looking around them for anything that was the right length to fit up to his armpit and thick enough to hold his weight. 

Shiro let out a breath at the pressure against his shoulder, mumbling his acknowledgement. Lance had a point. And really… they might as well get to know each other better. Or… at all, really. 

Lance continued. “But… yeah he’s, Hunk is my best friend. I’ve known him forever. Other than my family I think it’s the closest I’ve been to anyone. He even puts up with me going on about hot guys and joins in to try and make me talk to them heh… even though he’s straight. His girlfriend is cool, too.” 

Shiro wasn't sure what kind of a name  _ Hunk _ was; it sounded like an affectionate nickname. But then the other man was going on, explaining who this person was to him. He guiltily acknowledged in the privacy of his own thoughts that the 'even though he's straight' reassured him more than he wanted to admit. 

Lance spotted something then, it was a branch as thick as his forearm and splintered at one end, though the other was a cleaner break. “Th-that hey, over there.” Lance pointed and hoped Shiro could make out which bit he was indicating. “There’s a lot of luggage strewn about here too we should be able to find some padding…” He felt guilty about going through people's things,  _ really _ guilty but.. They needed it right now.

Blinking and looking around when Lance pointed out something, Shiro scanned the direction the other man was pointing. Spotting a thick branch that looked like it might be an okay height, he nodded, picking his way over to it with Lance at his side. 

Lance hobbled along next to Shiro towards the branch. His eyes scanning to once they were next to each other. Yeah this looked like it was just right. 

"This… this could work." Nothing was going to be perfect but it seemed the most ideal, Shiro thought. "Here just… lean on my shoulder for a minute." Shiro slipped Lance's arm off of his shoulder before stooping to grab the thick piece of wood. 

“Mhmm.” Lance wobbled a bit but he kept his hand on Shiro’s shoulder as the taller man scooped to pick up the branch. Taking it and holding onto it firmly with both hands when it was passed over to him.

"Think you can hold yourself up on this while I try to round up some clothes to pad it?" The older man asked before making a move to find something.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine for a while. I can't put it under my arm like this but it’s fine in front.” Lance leaned on it with all his weight, he’d probably end up with blisters but his hands were already so messed up he didn’t think it would matter much. 

Shiro grabbed up the thickest clothes he could find. A pair of jeans for a base layer, a couple of long-sleeve shirts they could wrap overtop of that. He grabbed a sweatshirt that looked relatively crisp and new as well. With his fistful of clothing, he made his way back over to Lance's side. 

"The sweatshirt is for you if you want it. The rest is for the stick. It's…" Shiro hesitated slightly. "It's too cold to be just wandering around like that. You're going to get sick." They already had enough problems without risking exposure or something. He really hoped they weren't out on their own for much longer. "You're right though. Talking about ourselves would be… good. Pass the time and get to know each other?" 

Lance watched Shiro moving about and then blushed as his state of undress was noted. “Y-yeah I want it. I’m… sorta really cold, actually.” He moved a hand to scratch at the back of his head with an awkward expression. “Worth it though. You definitely look like you’re coping easier with that arm.” 

Lance lowered himself to his knees carefully, reaching out for the sweater and wanting to groan at how soft and thick it felt. He handed the branch to Shiro for a moment as he pulled it on, shivering as the fluffy inside of the material fell across his skin. “Ngh…  _ fuck yeah. _ ” His over exaggerated praise of the garment was met with a cheeky smile before he held the branch again. 

Shiro huffed as he offered out the sweatshirt, giving a small nod and a laugh as he maneuvered to hold onto the branch for a moment when it was pushed in his direction. It was easier said than done one-handed but he managed it. The exaggerated pleased sound was almost  _ lewd _ and Shiro coughed, choking on his own throat as he glanced away. That was… that had to just be in how he was hearing it. 

“I’ll sit here for a moment so… you think you could bundle that stuff on the top for me? I can hold this fine. And… thanks for finding me a sweater, Takashi.” Might as well use his name… somehow it felt more intimate. 

At the request Shiro nodded before pausing--or rather freezing--for a moment at the way he was addressed. "I… Of course." His smile probably looked completely ridiculous as he tried to keep it from turning into an outright grin. No one called him that, really. No one outside of his family, at least. He introduced himself as Shiro and that was what everyone addressed him by. Lance had to know that it was  _ weighty _ calling him that but yet he did it anyway. Shiro busied himself quickly stacking the layers of fabric as best as he could, pointing out when he needed Lance to tie two pieces together to finish it off. 

Lance couldn’t help his own grin when Shiro reacted sort of  _ shyly _ to his words. Ducking his head and biting his lip, clinging to the warm feeling as the cold reality of their situation tried to claw it’s way back to the forefront. He didn’t want to think about the carnage around them, he was  _ exhausted _ thinking of it. He needed to think of  _ positive _ and happy things, even if it was deluded and out of place and inappropriate. If he didn’t Lance thought he might just break completely. In a way that he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

He turned again to watch Shiro stacking everything and lifted his hands to tie things off when prompted. Thankful for the few protruding twigs to hold them down and in place better. With that done he pulled himself up on the branch and hefted it beneath his arm to test it out. It held his weight perfectly, the padding making it comfortable enough to use to move around and he nodded. “Thanks, that’s good. I can use this.” Lance wobbled slightly as he moved to test it out, left leg half dragging as he did but the branch making him able to limp along. 

Shiro held his hand out protectively when Lance moved to stand up again, not wanting to have to watch him fall again. But he was pleased when the other man managed to keep standing, letting out a breath he didn't know that he was holding. "Good… I'm glad." Watching Lance move was halting and awkward but he was satisfied at least that the smaller man wasn't at risk of going crashing to the ground, probably. 

“Kay, right… water… food… anything.” He wondered where the part of the plane was that they kept the meals. Those were in packets right? They’d have more luck with that than trying to go through luggage, probably. “Do you know what part of a plane the food bit is in? Uh… like.. Where they make the in flight meals up? There should be some packaged food right?”

At the mention of food and water, Shiro swallowed, reminded of how dry his mouth was, tasting of nothing but old blood and bitterness and bile. He nodded, brows furrowing as he tried to think. "Probably… somewhere back here. Or… at the other end. I'm not… I'm not sure. Depends on the plane, I think. It would be at one of the ends though so… I'd say let's start back here and move up?" 

“Hmh… yeah this is probably the best place to start then.” Lance agreed and looked around them with a sigh before looking up toward the sky. He wished he hadn’t. Not only was the sky mostly obscured anyway, but a body - missing an arm and foot - hung from one of the trees high up and Lance ducked his head quickly enough to feel dizzy with a violent retch. His body, not having anything to bring up, tensed and shook as he groaned and swore harshly.

“R-remind me… to not look up again… anywhere near the plane.” Lance whispered as he composed himself. With how many dead bodies and body parts he’d already seen he’d have thought he would be used to the sight a little bit more now. But every time it made him want to vomit. 

When Lance looked up and then so suddenly doubled over again, Shiro frowned in concern and confusion. But then Lance was asking for a reminder to not look up and Shiro couldn't help the way he reflexively looked up, eyes going wide. He looked down and away harshly, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth as a shaky breath huffed out of him. "Oh. That's… That's just wrong…" 

“R-right...food…” Lance  _ wasn’t hungry _ . But they had to eat.  _ Drink _ . Lance limped away from where he’d been standing, keeping his gaze on the floor around them as he scanned the baggage and other items strewn about. Every time he saw a glimpse of blood he quickly changed the direction of his gaze to try and avoid seeing anything grisly again.

It was a horror zone. They were in an absolute horror zone. Shiro was more and more aware of that as the reality sunk in and the shock started to fade. He moved a few things here and there, tipping over stray pieces of plane to look under them. "So… what are they like…? Your family? Brothers or sisters?" Shiro asked the question idly, looking for some sort of conversation topic and not sure where to start. 

Lance moved in silence, though his breathing was laboured, more so than it probably should be. But then again he’d lost a decent amount of blood, hadn’t drunk anything in about a day, hadn’t eaten for longer. He was tired but he kept moving. At Shiro’s question he was glad of the conversation, humming softly.

“Hmm.. well. I’m an only child, my parents were trying for ages so had me pretty late. I think they’d given up hope by then so I was a surprise, apparently.” Lance used the branch to move something as he looked, wobbling a bit before it was back on the floor. “Got a ton of aunts and uncles and cousins though. I’m the youngest, I think some of my cousins even have kids almost my age it’s crazy.”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully, nodding at the information. "That sounds nice, though. Having a lot of people who would have your back like that? Not sure about the being the youngest part, though. That sounds like it could go either way." His lips quirked up at the edges. 

"Got my back? Hah. More like tease the hell out of me." Lance was already tired again, but he hoped it didn't come across in his voice. Upbeat. He was terrified and cold now but... they had to keep upbeat, right? Even with bodies strewn around them... or... parts of bodies. Lance stopped to try and catch his breath, wiping at sweat across his forehead. “What about yours? Are they all in Japan?”

When the question was turned back on him, Shiro nodded. "Yeah. It's why I go back so often. My parents they… They weren't too happy when I took the job. Didn't want me so far away. But... I feel like I'm actually doing something helpful so… I enjoy it. And the pay is…  _ definitely _ not something to complain about either. It's a bit lonely but… That's mostly my own doing, really." 

Hearing more about Shiro was nice. Not so much knowing his family had disapproved of his work choice, but knowing  _ things  _ about Shiro made him feel closer. Lance liked it. "Well... I'm... I'm glad you got the job... and got on the same plane as me, even though that sounds sorta stupid since we were in a crash and it's completely selfish but... I'm glad I'm not alone out here." Lance gnawed on his lip as he pointedly kept his eyes searching the floor. "I'd have died by now for sure."

Shiro struggled to move a few seats but then he spotted a metal box-like thing and shoved the seat the rest of the way to the side. "Lance. Lance! Over here." He never thought he'd be so damn happy to see a drinks cart. Hopefully some things had survived the rough landing. Well… at least the water bottles should have. He tugged at it, unlatching the interior from the case-like thing it fastened into to slide it out. 

Suddenly, Shiro was calling him almost  _ excitedly  _ and Lance's head jerked up to find where the other man was. He limped over with the help of his new make-shift cane and felt his breath hitch at the sight of the drinks trolley.  _ Water _ . Lance stumbled to kneel beside Shiro and opened the other side of the cart. There were exploded milk packs and what seemed to be soda and water soaking everything inside but some bottles and cans were intact. Enough that when Lance saw a cola looking the same as any you'd get from a vending machine or store he started to cry. Which was utterly humiliating and yet he'd cried enough that he couldn't bring himself to care. Sugar.  _ Caffeine _ ! Just a goddamn  _ drink _ .

Shiro dug through the carnage of broken beverages, pulling out everything he could that looked intact with an absurd little laugh. An absurd little laugh that only grew as he tossed his head back. Lance was  _ crying _ and Shiro was  _ laughing _ and fuck they were both already a mess. He tried to calm himself down. "...I'm glad you were on that plane too. I don't… I don't know how I could do this alone." He couldn't have. It was Lance's phone that was going to be their salvation. 

The sound of Shiro's laugh was both shocking and wonderful in the wake of Lance's tears. There was no way they would come out of this sane, not that he'd been  _ average  _ before all of this but this whole experience was going to leave them with some pretty messed up mental scars. 

Opting for a can of apple juice, Shiro popped the lid with one hand. He swished some in his mouth, spitting it off to the side to rid himself of the taste of old blood for the first time in what felt like forever. Feeling marginally more human, he tipped the can back, downing half of it in one go. He choked slightly, coughing as his body protested the sudden influx of fluids into his stomach. "I… never thought I'd be so happy… to choke on a drink…" 

Lance struggled with the cap of the cola for a while, the sound of Shiro drinking and choking on it having him pause to watch in concern. But Shiro seemed fine and was soon drinking again.   
  
Lance finally managed to undo his cola after that, his palm burning from the effort in his weakness. It probably would have been more wise to try for water first, they had sports caps at least. But  _ caffeine _ . Lance drank his own drink then, gulping it down before pulling it away with a grimace as the fizz hurt his throat and made his nose tingle. He sneezed violently just as Shiro said he was  _ happy  _ to choke on a drink. Lance snorted, then he was laughing too... well, laugh-crying. "I never th-thought I'd cry over a cola."

Coughing a few more times, Shiro looked over when Lance sneezed. He took another, smaller sip of his drink before clearing his throat again. Finding himself laughing again at the absurdity of the situation and both of their reactions, Shiro shook his head. They had both been pushed far too far, past the line of safely protecting their sanity. It wasn't somewhere they could easily come back from. 

Lance took a moment to swallow his saliva down to soothe his fizz burned throat before he took another, more tentative, sip of cola. It tasted  _ so sweet _ it made his jaw ache in that odd sort of way. 

Shiro found himself staring at Lance as he lingered between laughing and crying. The faint urge to just tackle him to the ground and kiss him when he laughed like that drifted along the back of his mind. But that wasn't the priority. "We should… We should round up what we can and… take it back to our… camp?" It was sort of their camp, wasn't it? It was a makeshift camp, anyway. And he didn't want to risk the fire going out, not entirely sure how long their rescue would take. Helicopters couldn't go that fast, he didn't think. 

It took Lance very little time to note the way Shiro was just staring at him, licking his lips and ducking his head. Why did they have to meet like this? He was in so much pain, so distressed and cold and all manner of other unpleasant things… and yet when Shiro was staring at him Lance  _ still  _ felt his stomach flip flop. As if his brain was trying to latch onto the most pleasant,  _ normal _ thing in the whole situation. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad of it or... guilty.

Shiro felt a burst of heat rise in his cheeks when it became obvious that Lance  _ knew _ he was staring. He knew he wasn't being subtle but he didn't think he'd been that  _ obvious _ either. Shaking it off, Shiro moved to gather whatever he could into a small pile. Frowning down at the state of his arm, he sighed in frustration. He wouldn't really be able to properly carry much of anything. 

“Yeah… I’m getting really cold… again… more.” Lance fumbled over his response slightly. Reaching back into his side of the cart and pulling out a few bottles of water. He had  _ one _ pocket left in his jeans, the other side had been ripped away and he was amazed his dick wasn’t just… flopping out when he moved. So Lance shoved one bottle in the pocket. The others he haphazardly cradled in an arm with his cola as he struggled to stand again with the help of his branch crutch. He dropped a bottle of water in the process and felt like crying again, he was  _ useless _ like this. 

The sound of the water bottle falling made Shiro jolt and look over, finding Lance in a similar state. "Just… try to get what you can. Don't push yourself too hard. No point wasting energy." 

Standing again, Shiro moved to pick through the wreckage until he found an abandoned pocketbook. Bulky. Perfect. He dumped the contents, trying to keep them all in one spot at least before hauling it back over to the drinks cart. He stuffed in as many bottles and cans as he could--a grand total of three bottles and four miscellaneous cans--before slinging the bag over his shoulder. 

“I… I know… I just feel like I should be doing more to help… s’all.” Lance watched as Shiro found the bag and filled it. That was better than he’d thought to do, but now that he was up and had his hands full he was determined to just get back to the fire. He was too tired to keep moving, and his lower stomach hurt more than before. He felt like he might have to pee again too.

Lance turned after making sure his haul was secure and began limping back toward the fire. The orange glow dim but visible through the trees and wreckage. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's injuries start becoming more obvious in the wake of their excursion to get something to drink and fear continues to settle in. But then something happens to change their situation completely.

Lance found walking back to the camp hard going without Shiro’s firm, warm weight against his side, but he made it back and collapsed with a wince to the floor next to the fire. His crutch falling to the side and his haul of bottles scattered at his front as he pressed a hand across his bladder. The dark, black bruises across his lower abdomen twinging at the press and his back sending sharp, stabbing pains through its lower portion.

Shiro followed along behind Lance, picking his way across the ground carefully. He held the bag tight to his side, not wanting to risk losing it if he stumbled. When Lance stumbled and collapsed by the side of the fire, Shiro dropped the bag he was holding before falling quickly to one knee. Holding his hands up unsurely, he looked over Lance, over the way he was pressing at himself.

"Lance… What's… what's wrong?" Shiro's concern was blatant, worry oozing into his voice. "Are you okay…?" Shiro tried to keep the panic down even as he worried. But with every muscle of his body feeling fatigued and his arm burning more or less depending on how much he let his heart rate spike, it was harder than he would have liked. He wasn't going to have Lance up and dying on him of internal bleeding or something when they were so close, _so close_ to getting out of this.

Lance jolted when Shiro dropped his bottles and came to rest on one knee beside him. The blatant worry in the other man’s tone and posture had Lance’s cheeks feeling warm even though the rest of him was sort of feeling cold and clammy. “I…” He paused, should he tell the other man that the more he moved the more he was starting to hurt? It didn’t ease off when he was resting either, apparently. But Shiro looked _so_ worn down and worried and Lance felt awful for possibly making it even worse.

“I’m f-fine.” He lied, just a little bit. “I need to pee again is all. I think I bruised my bladder with the belt.” Lance tilted his head a little. “Didn’t you? Maybe my belt was faulty or too tight or something…” Or the fact he’d been thrown awkwardly across Shiro and snapped practically in half at the midpoint could have something to do with it.

Shiro bit his lip when Lance insisted he was fine. He didn't _sound_ fine. Then again Shiro doubted he sounded fine either. The statement seemed… plausible enough. If Lance was bruised… But he could still be _bleeding._ Up late too many nights with nothing on TV but old crime drama and medical drama reruns, Shiro was sure he'd seen something about the stomach getting hard… or was it distending? _Fuck._ He couldn't remember. And he wouldn't even know what he was looking at anyway. All he could do was hope that Lance could hang on, whatever was going on.

“C-can you help me again?” This time Lance’s face was _definitely_ hot with a blush when he spoke.

The question had Shiro blinking before his own cheeks heated up. " _O-oh…_ Uhm… S-sure… I can… yeah. Let's… do that now and then you can settle in… Try to get comfortable." Shiro nodded a few too many times and a bit too quickly, moving to urge Lance's arm over his shoulder as he looped one around his waist.

Lance ducked his head at Shiro’s expression, why was _he_ getting embarrassed like that? Then again it was probably really weird to hold another guy up as he pissed right next to you… that had to be why. “Mnh yeah, thanks.” Lance mumbled, shifting to hike himself up on his good knee as much as possible before he was wrapped around Shiro and standing.

Shiro tried to not move too suddenly or too fast, not wanting to topple them both into the fire, struggling to get Lance to his feet before guiding him off a short ways away from their fire. Now if he could just manage to avoid looking at Lance's _dick_ this time.

The walk away from the fire was short and Lance took a glance to make sure Shiro was looking away - why would he _look_ at Lance pissing anyway? Satisfied that he was, Lance shuffled his position like last time, holding Shiro’s arm around and under his arm. The other hand reaching down to pull himself free out of the ripped side of his pants. The bruising at the base of his dick looked even worse now and he grimaced, though he knew that’s pretty much how bruises worked. Worse before they were better n all that.

Shiro tried to be respectful. He tried to look away. And stay looking away. As much as curiosity--and more than a slight interest in Lance--had him wanting to jump on the chance to size him up there was also concern. Was Lance okay? Really? Or was there… More to worry about? Shiro felt helpless and useless and he _hated_ the feeling, hated not being able to _do_ anything to fix things.

When it came to actually _peeing_ Lance tensed and swallowed down a sharp hiss as pain spasmed through his bladder. Red. This time his pee was red, not _thick_ like actual blood but… not the colour pee should be. He only went a tiny bit before he couldn't any more and felt frustration at the feeling of needing to go still being there. Whatever. Tucking himself back in and wiping his hand on the front of his shirt even though he didn’t get anything on it Lance turned back to the original position. “T-thanks… m’done…”

Then Lance tensed and was obviously stifling a pained sound. Shiro couldn't help but have his gaze flick down. _Red._ Lance _was_ bleeding. Internally. Hell he was pissing _bloody_ piss. _Fuck._ He had to… He had to make sure Lance didn't move as much as possible. He worked to turn them, heading back to the side of the fire. "That… That didn't exactly take long… Is… I mean… Are you sure you're okay? If there's… something wrong you should… We should keep each other in the loop. If one of us passes out before help gets here… It would help for us to be able to tell them."

Lance limped back to the fire and when there sank back down just as Shiro began asking his questions. Lance moved to half lay on his good side, propped up by an elbow as he ducked his head and frowned at the floor in front of him. He didn’t want Shiro to get worried but he was now anyway, was it because Lance had tensed? Or…

“D-did you see it, then?” Lance ventured tentatively.

Shiro's guilty blush felt like it was searing his face from the inside when Lance asked if he'd seen it. He busied himself with the distraction of putting a bit more wood onto the fire. He would have to get more soon.

“I didn’t know there’d be blood… last time I went it was just a bit pink, but I thought that was because my uh… dick’s bruised up. Y’know? But… it’s been aching pretty bad and I guess moving about a minute ago made it worse. I still need to pee but I can’t.” Lance poked at the plump patches of moss beneath him.

Shiro was thankful he didn't actually have to _reply_ to the question when Lance continued on. 'Yeah I was looking at your dick when you pissed' wasn't exactly the sort of thing he wanted to admit to. But Lance was still talking and confirming that he _was_ hurting and…

“I-if I die… c-can you tell my parents… again.. That I love them… I…” Lance had tried not to let it get to him again, he _really_ had. But seeing _red_ come out and then Shiro noticing and how _cold_ he was feeling now… Lance rubbed at his eyes with the heel of a palm, shoulders shaking.

" _Hey._ " Shiro's voice was solid and firm as he shuffled to be able to grab Lance by the chin. "You're _not_ dying on me. You're not allowed to. Okay?" His breath was shaky now, threatening to crack with a sob at the idea of Lance just up and dying on him after all this, after everything they'd gone through.

Lance jolted again when Shiro said ‘hey’ in a firm tone. The hand at his chin had the smaller man looking up easily and he tried to blink away the tears in his eyes as he was resolutely _told_ he wasn’t _allowed_ to die. The absurdity of the command had a desperate, hysteric sort of laugh bubble up and out of him and Lance swallowed it down quickly because Shiro was still speaking

"I… In the video… I told my parents… That it was okay. Because I wasn't… because I wasn't alone…" _Fuck_ Shiro was going to start crying. Clearing his throat and blinking hard, he moved to cup at Lance's cheek gently before papping at it in a light slap. "So you're not allowed to make me a liar. Got it? No dying. Just a few more hours and then you'll get some help, okay?"

The tone of Shiro’s voice was heartbreaking, but then there was a hand on his cheek and a soft slap which wasn’t _really_ a slap. “Mngh…” Lance closed his eyes as he did his best to nod. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to die, not only because he was far too young for that but because he really _didn’t_ want to leave Shiro alone here. However long that would be.

Shiro tried to keep his breaths controlled. He wasn't sure which was more terrifying. Being alone in the woods surrounded by broken corpses or… or having to watch Lance _die_ right in front of him. Before… all of this, the only time he'd ever seen _anything_ die was when he was a _child_ and his dog had died, peacefully and of old age. Nothing… nothing like this. And even with the crash… He didn't remember the actual _happenings_ of it. No. Lance just… wasn't allowed. That was it.

“Shiro, m’cold…” Lance finally admitted, pressing his lips together hard before shuffling close to the other man and clinging to his chest. Lance pressed his face there, nuzzling and doing his best to ignore the smell of blood and other unpleasant things covering them. “S-so… hold me…”

Biting his lip hard in concern at the admission, Shiro found himself tasting metal again, too fatigued to bother figuring out if his face was bleeding again or if he'd just bitten down on his lip too hard. Lance was scooting closer, practically curling up against his chest. Shiro didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around him in response, pressing a solid kiss to the mess of Lance's hair. "Remember… no dying allowed, okay…?" It was softer this time. More of a plea.

The arm around him made Lance calm just a little. Warm and strong even with Shiro injured and fatigued as he was. “I… I’m not gonna die...I dun wanna.” Lance said as if sulking, easier that way than to _actually_ go back to thinking about the high possibility. He had no idea _what_ was bleeding inside of him or how badly now. How much blood did someone have to lose before they passed out and died anyway? Obviously his _bladder_ was bleeding but was something else inside? Down there things could get really fucked up, if his bowel was involved…

Shiro waited a moment before carefully adjusting them until he had Lance and himself both laying down with the smaller man at his side closer to the fire and his arm still wrapped around Lance. Fatigue and concern and worry and pain alternately nipped at his consciousness, competing for attention and leaving him somewhere between alert and dazed, awake and asleep.

Lance grit his teeth and clutched harder at Shiro as they lie down. The fire at his back was warm and the sound of it crackling something to focus on. He wasn’t going to think about what was going on inside his body. He _couldn’t_. It was way too frightening. He nuzzled his face to Shiro’s chest again, pressing a small kiss to the front of the other man’s dirty shirt. He didn’t feel so cold any more, warm and sleepy he let himself drift off. Though his rest was broken by flashes of nightmares and stabs of pain that woke him every so often.

Shiro wasn't exactly sure when he'd really drifted off. But he found himself being woken up by a loud, repetitive noise. Some kind of engine. His thoughts felt sluggish, finding piecing together what the loud noise was with any kind of _meaning_ too difficult. He just wanted the noise to stop. It grated at the inside of his head. The sound seemed to go farther away and then come back again.

Soon it was followed by a different sound. Someone yelling. No… no it was at least two someones yelling. Yelling… That was… His name. And Lance's name. He should… He should respond to that. Right? Trying his voice, Shiro found it only warbled and cracked painfully with the attempt and he swallowed, trying again. "H-here! Over… Over here!" He sounded terrible. He really hoped he didn't sound that terrible.

Lance woke to Shiro’s crackled shout but quickly found himself gagging with his level of pain now. Closing his eyes again and blocking out the noises of the forest that seemed way louder than before.

Zoning out again after that, Shiro found there were suddenly hands on him. Hands pulling him and Lance apart. No… He didn't… He didn't want that. Shiro tried to cling tighter but then he was pulled away and strapped down to some kind of board. A bright light was being shined in his eyes and he flinched, shaking his head. He could feel his mouth making some kind of insistence that they take care of Lance first, that he was fine, he could wait. Time was blurry. Suddenly he was in what he realized was a chopper, insisting again that they needed to take care of Lance. The loud sound of the blades made his head throb painfully. But it was fine. It was… They were going to be fine.

He woke again when he was being manhandled and Shiro was frantically speaking and Lance tensed. Did they find them? They found them right? He wanted to relax, felt like his head was full of thick cotton as he tried to understand what was being said to him. He nodded and shook his head where he could but the ache in his bladder and the chill to his bones was too much.

Until he realised they were going to _fly_ him out. He screamed then, voice raw and breaking as he yelled. Why weren’t they listening to him? He was saying _no_ over and over and over again ‘no, no, _no_!’

Shiro flinched when Lance started screaming. Relief and pain and confusion battled in his head. Lance was _alive._ Lance was shouting and raving 'no'. But… but they needed to get out of there. Lance needed to get help.

All of a sudden something hot was snaking it’s way up Lance’s arm, _inside_ his arm, and a short while after that Lance blacked out. Unconscious for the remainder of the flight and much of the examinations on his broken body afterward.

They both needed to--Lance's screaming stopped surprisingly suddenly and Shiro tried to turn to look, to see, to make sure he was okay. But the damn _board_ they had him strapped to had _things_ on the side of his head and he couldn't look, couldn't turn, couldn't do anything. Finding himself useless _again,_ Shiro couldn't help a harsh sob. And another. He was fairly sure he was babbling, the figure at his side offering reassurances that he couldn't be bothered to understand. The pressure change when the chopper started moving had his head spinning again.

The next thing Shiro was aware of was the _thump_ of the helicopter hitting something. Landing. That was… that was landing, right? That was landing. Then Lance was being taken off in a different direction and Shiro found himself pleading again, insisting they help Lance _repeatedly_ while he was offered reassurances that they would 'do everything they can'. What the hell did that even mean? Everything hurt, everything was foggy. He was asked more questions and then given something he was assured would 'help' and everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Shiro are out of the woods and finally have the help the need and time to asses their injuries and perhaps some of their feelings too.

When Shiro woke up, it was to the nurse doing…  _ something _ with the IV machine. Poking at it somehow. She was quick to dart off to get a doctor when she realized he was awake, ignoring his questions. A sombre-looking man came in a few minutes later, giving Shiro plenty of time to assess his injuries. There was some kind of… thick bandage plastered across his face. His arm was… well… It was still  _ there _ at least. Wrapped up tightly in layers of gauze and bandages. Shiro tried to move his fingers and found the response… lacking at best. It wasn't… his hand wasn't doing what he told it to. Or it was… but only barely. They'd done the best they could, he was told, but the damage was 'extensive'. Something about tendons and nerve involvement. But they had opted to 'be conservative' and give him a  _ chance _ to try to heal. The casual way the man talked about the possibility of  _ hacking his arm off _ was… alarming. It wasn't  _ that _ bad, right? But… he could barely move his hand. 

Lance was his next question, insisting on answers. Blah blah confidentiality, he didn't  _ give a shit. _ He wanted  _ Lance. _ If there was  _ one _ thing he was good at, it was telling people what to do. Even one-armed and hopped up on whatever drugs they'd pumped him full of. Maybe part of it was pity. He didn't care. Lance was alive, he'd gotten that much out of them. And something about surgery. Shiro didn't hesitate to insist and insist until he'd gotten himself and Lance arranged to be roomed together. And if that insistence had required the slight sort of exaggeration of calling Lance his boyfriend no less than four times… Well… It wasn't as if he didn't  _ want _ him to be. 

Lance was out of it until he woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. There was the soft sound of beeping and the  _ awful _ sensation of something in his throat for a moment before it was being yanked free. He gagged and a soft, feminine voice told him it was okay. That they just had to remove a tube from his throat. He zoned out again after that and woke not in another brightly lit room but somewhere dimmer. Quieter.  _ Softer _ .

Lance groaned and turned to peer to his side, an IV stand with a blood bag and saline hung at his side. His stomach felt sore and tight and as he tried to move Lance realised that something  _ hard _ was wrapped around his body. Of course he had a catheter in too, uncomfortable between his legs. Lance groaned again and pressed a hand onto the white brace encasing his torso and frowned. But he didn’t have much more time to take stock because a doctor and nurse were at his bedside and… when had they gotten there? 

The doctor filled him in on his injuries, saying he’d been lucky. If you could call it that, Lance certainly didn’t  _ feel _ lucky. He’d lost a kidney, his bladder was lacerated but not severely enough to need anything. The wound on his groin had apparently had much more splintered wood that needed to be removed but their makeshift stitches had at least stopped him from bleeding too much more. But most shocking to him was that his back was  _ broken _ . Well.. fractured not actually snapped in half. Which would explain the brace, and apparently was the reason for the weakness in his leg. They left after a short conversation about moving someone into the room with him and Lance fell asleep again with a soft grunt. Too groggy and drugged to make much sense of more than their news on his body, but as he fell unconscious again Lance wondered where Shiro was. He wanted to see him.

Shiro let himself relax slightly when they agreed to move him. Even if the process of moving was  _ loud _ and clattery and made his head throb. The doctor had said something about a mild concussion and blood loss. But then he was being wheeled into a new room and--"L--" Shiro's voice cracked and he bit his lip, realizing he didn't  _ really _ want to wake the other man if he was resting. "...Lance…" he finished more quietly. 

Lance stirred slightly when there was suddenly more noise and a flurry of action in his room but he kept his eyes closed. Whatever drugs they’d given him seemed to be in full fling now, but he was  _ sure _ he heard Shiro’s voice. “Shi-ro…” He mumbled but fell asleep again shortly after.

"Lance…" Relief didn't even begin to cover the emotions flooding Shiro's system. He tried to sit up slightly only to be scolded in hushed tones by a nurse as he was settled into the room and set up with his drips of fluids and antibiotics and painkillers. Shiro couldn't keep his eyes off of Lance whenever he was awake enough and not too out of it from the medications, his non-bandaged hand fidgeting slightly, wishing he could just reach out and  _ touch _ him. Lance looked… He looked like hell. Hell, they probably both did. But Lance was  _ alive. _ That was what mattered. 

It wasn’t until many hours later that Lance woke with a whimper. 

Gripping the sheets hard for a moment Lance paused before pressing his hands to his face with a sob. They gave him painkillers that made him feel tired and spaced out but they couldn’t do anything for the damned nightmares? He wanted to roll over but all the tubes in his veins and dick and the brace on his body prevented him really doing that. So he fumbled for the bed control pad and at least moved the head end up a bit so he was half sitting. Bending where his legs met his body and wincing at the feeling of his stitches pulling at his groin. He let his head loll to the side and blinked with  _ relief _ at the vision of Shiro lying in the bed across from him. Shiro was okay, Shiro was  _ here _ . 

Shiro dozed off and on mostly, unable to really find sleep but too drugged up and lethargic to really be called awake. Restful sleep seemed all but unattainable. When he was awake, Shiro found himself getting upset and and frustrated by his arm if he didn't focus on something else. And in the small room… well there wasn't much to focus on aside from Lance. Which left Shiro spending a lot of time watching the other man while listening to the soft beeps and blips of the machines. 

In another sort-of-sleep state, Shiro heard a sound. It was… it was a distressed sound. And there were more noises and rustling. Shiro blinked his eyes open with a groan, trying to reorient himself again. His gaze drifted almost reflexively over to Lance only to blow out wide when he saw blue eyes staring back at him. Shiro shuffled to sit up slightly, heart thudding in his chest. " _ Lance… _ You're awake." 

Lance kept his eyes on Shiro as the other man looked at him and sat up a bit. The sound of Shiro’s voice was amazing and it felt like forever since he’d heard it. “Shiro…” Lance repeated as if he couldn't get his voice to work around anything else. But he cleared his throat and licked his lips, swallowing thickly around the dryness in his mouth. “Y-yeah… somehow.” He was so relieved, they were  _ safe _ .

Shiro thrilled at hearing Lance speak. It was real. They were… they were really really okay. They were alive and they were going to be fine. Or… at least alive. 

The only thing Lance found himself doing was bursting into tears.  _ Again _ . Shiro had seen way too many humiliating and uncool sides of him since this all started. Yet the other man still looked so relieved to see him. Lance wished he could move, get up and climb into bed with Shiro and  _ hug _ him. They were even too far apart to be able to reach across the space and hold hands. It wasn’t  _ fair _ . “Y-you’re okay… right?”

Shiro sat up more fully when Lance started crying, turning with an awkward shuffle of his ass to sit sideways, one leg hanging down off the edge of the bed. It twinged when he moved it. Vaguely, he wondered if it was sprained after all. Whatever. It wasn't important. 

Lance was asking if  _ he _ was okay? Shiro couldn't help a disbelieving laugh. "Me? Lance you were…  _ Fuck _ I was so scared you were going to  _ die _ and you're worried about  _ me? _ " Biting his lip, Shiro sighed, giving an attempt at wiggling his fingers again and glancing down to see what they managed to do. Definitely… not what he'd told them to do. Fuck it. Tentatively, Shiro moved to stand, hissing slightly at his ankle protesting as he leaned his weight partly on the IV stand. They could yell at him later. 

When Shiro moved so he was half off the bed Lance blinked and wanted to tell the other man to lie back down. To  _ rest _ . But he didn’t have it in him because Shiro was laughing and talking and  _ moving _ towards him. “I… I’m not dead though am I? So… I’m worried… for you.” Lance said even though he thought it sounded pretty lame coming out the way that it had. When Shiro hissed as he limped over Lance  whimpered with guity worry. 

Shiro stopped at the side of Lance's bed, not daring to sit down. Instead, he balanced his weight as much on his good leg as he could, reaching out to touch at Lance's cheek. "I'll be okay. What about you…?" 

The hand on his cheek had Lance leaning into the touch and his breath hitched again. “I…” Would he be okay? His back was broken and they said his leg weakness was because of that. But a wheelchair or whatever was better than  _ death _ . “I’ll be okay… probably. I won’t die at least.” He bit his lip, glancing over at the bags on his IV stand, they’d multiplied since he’d last looked. The saline and blood were joined by another bag of blood and another clear fluid that he assumed was probably antibiotics. 

Shiro's chest ached at the way Lance leaned into his touch. He wanted nothing more than to just dive into the bed with him and wrap around him and not let go. Both because Lance looked so  _ broken _ but also because Shiro himself was desperate for the reassurance that this wasn't some twisted dream.  _ Probably _ being okay wasn't… very certain. Shiro bit at his lip again, frowning. 

“I shoulda asked to keep my kidney though.” Lance laughed weakly as he looked back at Shiro, cradling the hand against his cheek with his own. “Wonder what exploded kidneys look like anyhow.”

" _ Exploded? _ " Shiro's eyes went wide as his volume spiked and he glanced towards the door worriedly before trying again at a whisper of a hiss. "You lost a  _ kidney!? _ " Shiro wheezed slightly, reflexively moving to run his right hand through his hair only to flinch at the sudden jab of the attempted large motion--not that his arm even moved more than a small jerk--and let out a frustrated sound at it. "Alright… Well that's… That's why we have two… right?" 

Lance jolted at Shiro’s exclamation and wished he hadn’t, a twinge going through his incision and the midpoint of his lower back. He wanted more painkillers… but he also wanted to be lucid and awake enough to speak to Shiro. So he’d wait. “T-that’s right, I got a whole other one! It’s fine.” Lance frantically tried to reassure Shiro. Of course he was also freaked out about it, something had been cut out of him after all, but he didn’t want to think about it too deeply. Joking about it was much easier. 

"Right…" Shiro nodded with a forced huff of a laugh. Losing a  _ kidney _ wasn't just some little thing. It was an  _ organ. _ That was  _ major surgery. _

“Mnh… your arm… do you need more meds? Does it hurt?” Lance hadn’t missed the slight jerk of the limb and the apparent discomfort it caused the other man. 

When Lance asked about his arm, Shiro stared at it for a moment, not offering up an answer. It didn't really hurt, not except when he tried to move it in his upper arm. Beyond that it just felt more… disjointed. Like it wasn't quite screwed on right, the sharpness soothed over by the medications in his system. 

“Um…” Lance glanced at the door then back at Shiro before letting go of the hand on his cheek and grunting as he pushed himself to the side a bit, creating space on the generously wide bed. “You wanna… lie here?” He’d be lying if he said his voice wasn’t sickeningly hopeful. “Jus dun sit on my pee tube that would be  _ awful _ .”  _ Oh my god shut up already Lance. _

Then Lance was moving and asking if Shiro wanted to join him. Shiro's chest clenched. He wanted that. He really wanted that. The additional comment had him snorting, shaking his head. "Noted. No pee tube seats." Hesitating, he turned to perch himself on the bed, adjusting himself to sit halfway sitting up but leaning against the back of the bed. "And as for my arm, I'm fine. It's… It's not something more meds would help with. But it's okay." 

Lance noted the way Shiro looked at his arm and didn’t answer. Worry lacing through him. Was it his fault? Had he pulled the shards out wrong or made the injuries worse by doing it? They’d been pretty bad anyway but Lance felt guilty anyway. But Shiro’s amused snort had him smiling despite himself and watching eagerly as Shiro moved to get comfortable on the bed beside him. 

“... It might get better on it’s own. Y’know… like… in those documentaries and stuff.” Lance anxiously tried to reassure Shiro. Meds wouldn’t make it better was similar to what he’d been told about his leg. So it was probably nerve damage, or something.

Watching Lance carefully, Shiro rolled his eyes, trying to not consider the possibility too hard. Fuck that would be nice. For it to just get better magically. Rather than having a half-limp half-working hand. Still… it was better than no hand. Wasn't it? "We'll see. If it's a medical miracle, you'll be the first one I tell." 

Grinning at Shiro’s words about telling Lance  _ first _ if it was a medical miracle. Somehow, lance hoped there really would be, losing the use of a leg was bed of course but… Lance felt like the loss of a  _ hand _ was worse. He used his hands for so much, such intricate things… he wanted Shiro to get better so badly. Even if not fully, even if it just meant his pain went away and he could lift his arm and use his hand to grip weakly or otherwise.

“H-hey we match right? My leg and your arm heh..heh…” Lance ducked his head, picking at the bandage covering the gash in his hand from pulling the shrapnel free of Shiro’s arm.  

But then Lance was looking nervous and talking about his  _ leg _ and them  _ matching. _ Matching his arm…. How? It wasn't just the shrapnel injury that had been giving Lance issues? There was something bad enough that they already knew, before he'd even tried to stand up? "I… What…? What's… what's wrong with your leg…?" Shiro's brows drew down in concern as he reached out to carefully touch at the other's face. 

When Shiro was suddenly asking about his leg in a serious voice Lance froze and then he laughed nervously with the touch to his face. He wanted to lie, but he also didn’t want to lie. Not to Shiro. But saying it out loud was upsetting… Chewing his lip Lance gripped the hand on his face and tugged it downward, beneath the sheets but not touching his body until it was across his stomach. The shorter man pressed Shiro’s hand down, then, so the other man would be able to feel the harsh firmness of the brace he was wearing. As he did this, Lance turned his face away, brows drawing down and lips pressed to a thin line with his upset and the way that the pressure nudged the surgical wound on his side beneath.

Shiro could feel the worry climbing in his system when Lance's laugh came out so forced and false. He frowned slightly, watching the other man. When his hand was gripped at, Shiro blinked, forcing himself to not think of  _ other _ contexts that could involve a gesture like that. Neither of them was in  _ any _ shape to do  _ anything _ like that. Not in the slightest. Not now, anyway. 

But then his hand was being pushed against Lance's body. No… not quite. Against something hard. And Lance was looking away. He had… something… wrapped around himself? Something… immobilizing him…? "I… I don't…. I don't understand…" Shiro's frown deepened as he went back to biting his lip, feeling out the brace again before bringing his hand up to rest over Lance's chest lightly, right above his heart. 

Lance closed his eyes when Shiro said he didn’t understand, he didn’t want to  _ say _ it. But he owed the other man that much at least. It wasn’t like it was completely snapped, and the weakness and pain was only in one leg. It could have been so much worse but… it was still  _ scary _ to him. He should have been more upset about his kidney, about the gash in his leg that had come so close to severing a major artery… but it was the spinal injury that affected him the most. 

Shiro kept quiet and still, worrying at his lip, gnawing on it quietly. He didn't dare to move, trying to give Lance whatever time he needed to explain himself. Shiro wasn't exactly in a hurry. And whatever it was that had Lance so… hesitant… it had to be something bad, something really bad. 

“My back broke.” He finally said. Simple and flat and no hint of a joke as there had been with his kidney issue. Lance took a deep breath - well as much of one as he could take with the brace around his lower ribs - and sighed out, the weight of Shiro’s hand on his chest a comfort. “I don’t remember much of what they said after that other than other stuff probably masked the pain there. Apparently that can happen with any injury it hurt but I thought it was just like… weird whiplash or something I mean.. Everything hurt anyway. When they explained I was drowsy, and high…But that’s why my legs like it is… they said I could be… that I might not be able too uh… y’know... I mean… g-get it up… not that that matters as much but…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he kept his face turned away, not wanting Shiro to see the awful scowl on his features.

When the words came, Shiro let out a shaky breath, eyes wide. Lance's… his  _ back _ was broken? Shiro was worried about his arm and Lance's  _ back _ was broken. But Lance was still talking, going on about how there was a lot he didn't remember of what they'd told him and that… He might not be able to to get hard as a result? That… Well that was… certainly… A thing. Shiro wasn't even sure where to piece that little bit of information in. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Lance's cheek before second-guessing himself and pulling back with heat tinting his cheeks. "The important thing is you're alive. Safe." 

Lance felt humiliated at how he was acting. He was  _ thankful _ to be alive, he really and truly was. But at the same time he felt oddly bitter, why did it have to happen to him? To  _ them _ . Shiro certainly didn't deserve any of this either. But…  _ no one _ did. Which just made his resentment at the whole thing make him feel even more guilty. 

The kiss to his cheek had him blinking out of his thoughts and blushing almost instantly. Turning to look at Shiro properly only made his cheeks feel warmer at the colour tinting the other man’s. “Y-yeah… you too. I’m… I’m really glad you’re alive, Shiro…” Lance’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he fidgeted with his hands before swallowing and leaning toward the other man. It was a slightly awkward moment since he couldn’t bend at the waist, but Lance pressed a kiss to Shiro’s cheek and then his jaw. Lingering and pressing a hand to the other man’s cheek to try and urge him to turn his head, to kiss him properly. They could right? They were safe and together and… Shiro still wanted to… right? Lance tried to pretend his fingers weren’t trembling harshly in his nervousness. 

Shiro felt his own blush darken at seeing Lance blushing so intensely. The words had his heart fluttering, hammering against the inside of his chest. He was glad he wasn't on a heart monitor or it would have been yelling bloody murder for the nurses, he was sure. The kiss to his cheek and then to his jaw had Shiro's breath hitching and coming in small, shallow breaths. 

It was obvious Lance was shaking, apprehensive. Shiro didn't hesitate in turning his head, catching Lance's lips in a firm kiss. Lingering, Shiro kept the kiss easy, pulling back to nuzzle the tip of his nose against the other man's cheek. 

When Shiro finally turned his head and kissed him, Lance’s breath hitched and he hoped that it was too subtle for Shiro to notice. It was already embarrassing enough that he felt as clumsy in it as he did. Humming softly at the nuzzling to his cheek, Lance opened his eyes for a moment to look over Shiro’s expression and the neat butterfly stitches and glue holding the wound across his face together as best as they could manage with the type of injury.

"I'm glad you're alive too. You had me scared there…" Shiro moved to catch Lance in another kiss, steady and slow in his motions, not wanting to push things and risk aggravating either of their injuries.

“I… was so scared by  _ everything _ … I’m still scared, Shiro.” Lance’s breath hitched again, this time out of the wave of anxiety that washed over him. He had no idea  _ if _ the sensation or use of his leg would ever be back to normal. Then Shiro was kissing him again, firmly but slowly and Lance leaned into it eagerly. 

Shiro wanted to just stay there, to stay wrapped up in the quiet moment, in having Lance next to him, in the kisses and the  _ togetherness. _ Lance's admission had Shiro's chest clenching, a silent 'me too' lingering unspoken on his tongue. Scared didn't begin to cover it. He was terrified under it all. But he knew if he admitted to it, it would take hold of him. So he kept it to himself. 

Shiro’s lips were surprisingly  _ soft _ and Lance moved his own against them as hungrily as he could with how drugged up and tired he was. He wanted to keep going, to kiss Shiro more and cling to him. But Lance had to pull back and lay back against the pillows again after a moment of maintaining his position, too weak to hold it.

When Lance pulled back, Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of his head before pulling back. "You should get some rest. We both have to call our parents too soon. They need to know what happened. ...Well. The crash and that we're okay, at least." He bit his lip, not sure if Lance would want to mention anything about  _ him _ to his parents. What even was this? What were they even doing? 

Lance couldn’t help the impulse to lick his lips after he was settled back down again, so he did it. His tongue still felt strange, from the tube that had been in his mouth during surgery he guessed. He was disappointed to find that everything still tasted odd from whatever gas they’d used in the mask he’d been wearing too. Or was it a side effect of something? Still, he’d hoped to taste Shiro, at least a little bit. A strange, mundane sort of wish, but exactly the sort of thing that Lance wanted to focus on right now instead of the crash or his injuries or Shiro’s injuries. Or how they might… lose touch now…

“I think… they already called mine. They said something about them being on their way but it would take a few hours.” Lance chewed on his lip, painfully aware of how Shiro’s parents were in a completely different country so more than likely wouldn't be able to visit the other man. He almost wanted to share his own… which was weird as hell. “But you… you should call them… n let them tell you how much they love you…” 

Shiro sighed, leaning back against the bed more heavily. He looked over at the clock. It had to have been… coming up on nine in the morning for them if he was counting right. That was okay. "Probably should… My mother will probably just tell me that 'this is exactly why you shouldn't have moved away in the first place'..." He wasn't exactly prepared for  _ that _ particular rant just yet. 

Lance lifted a hand to rest on Shiro’s thigh, the bandages around his palm feeling restrictive.

Looking at the hand on his thigh, Shiro moved until he could set his left hand on it with a little squeeze. His lips quirked, pursing slightly as he debated with himself. "If they saw that video… I know the  _ first _ thing my Mother's going to be doing once we've gotten past the 'no Mother I'm not dead, yes Mother I know you insist flying is dangerous' part is asking me who  _ you _ are…" If nothing else, Shiro's parents had always been almost absurdly accepting of the idea that their son would probably wind up with another man. Unfortunately… that also meant he got his fair share of griping about why he wasn't dating anyone yet and his mother launched on any decent-looking 'opportunity' she found out about. 

Lance let his fingers curl more securely around Shiro’s thigh when the other man’s hand came to rest atop his own, knowing that his touch wasn’t out of place or unaccepted. It was reassuring, Shiro’s weight and warmth next to him was a comfort that Lance didn’t want to have to do without. Not now and… somehow… he wanted the other man to stick around and be in his life from now on, too.

“Your mother… will probably mostly be overjoyed over how not dead her son is…” Lance’s voice came out in a croak and he chuckled softly. 

Shiro couldn't help a dry laugh at that, shaking his head. "But you see… I'm the one who decided to move across the ocean in the first place. So clearly it's my 'careless risk taking' that got me at risk of being dead in the first place." He loved her dearly but she could be… something of a handful. But that was how she showed she cared, how she showed that she'd been worried. So he couldn't fault her too badly. 

When Shiro mentioned his mother wanting to know who Lance was, probably, he snorted again and closed his eyes. “I’m that whiney whimp you got shouldered with and had to look after.” Lance still felt pretty useless, Shiro had been so put together this whole time, Lance felt like he’d done nothing to help the other man.

"You had a branch in your hip and a  _ broken back. _ ...I think you complained very little considering. More likely… 'Takashi… that boy in the video… Is he single? Traumatic experiences bring people together, you know… Shaken up, you should make a move before he goes home and has people fawning over him…' actually." Shiro put on his best shaky falsetto before dropping his head back with a groan. 

Lance listened as Shiro spoke, did an impression of what he expected his mother to say. From his point of view he couldn’t imagine any mother being so offhand about the experience they’d just had. Then again, his own mother was the type to cling and coddle and baby him so he might not have had a typical example. Not that he’d complain, he loved the attention when he got it. Would love it even more from someone like Shiro.

"She's honestly incorrigible. But…" Shiro hesitated only briefly, tapping his fingers against the back of Lance's hand. "She… wouldn't be wrong… And I don't… whatever  _ this _ is… I like it… you." 

Shiro was carrying on and the words made Lance’s face feel like it was burning. He wondered if it looked as red as it felt, or if he’d lost too much blood for the intense burning to come across as something more visible than a slight pinking to the apples of his cheeks. “You…” Lance felt like his heart was going to slam out of his chest, and his own machine - attached because of blood loss but set to silent unless there was something wrong - beeped a warning as his pulse climbed. Lance bit his lip and snorted out an embarrassed laugh at it as he glanced to the monitor to see the numbers flickering between 98 and 105. That was stupid, there was no way  _ Shiro _ did that right?

Shiro glanced over to the machine when it beeped, cheeks flushing a darker shade as he saw the numbers. That was… He was glad he wasn't hooked up to one of those, yet again. It  _ definitely _ would have been beeping up a storm with the way his heart was thudding erratically in his chest. Still… he couldn't help but feel a bit proud for making Lance's heart race. It was cheesy and cliche but… it felt nice. ...As long as no nurses came in to ruin the moment. 

“You think… people can build something offa stuff like this?” Lance picked at the blanket with the hand that wasn’t on Shiro’s thigh. “I really… think I like you too…”

"I…" Shiro bit his lip. "I don't know? But… I  _ do _ know I already thought you were cute before any of this. So it's not like it's  _ all _ this. It just… got us talking and… Besides… you could argue it'd be turning your back on good luck that out of all of that we made it out of there… together? So… maybe when we finally get home… we could… get dinner or something? If you wanted to?" 

Lance bit his lip and tried to mentally will his heart to calm down. He’d had blood transfusions but he was still beginning to feel light headed. Perhaps it was just how  _ giddy _ he felt, though. Shiro liked him, he liked Shiro… they’d been through hell and back but the other man had a point… they both seemed interested  _ before _ the plane went down.

“Y-yeah dinner… sounds good...nice… awesome...” Lance’s voice came out in a squeak, embarrassingly high pitched in his nervous embarrassment. The machine beeped again. Lance jolted and slapped his free hand over his face to try and smother the blush that he  _ knew _ was sucking all his transfused blood from all the places it needed to be just so it could collect in his cheeks and nose.

Shiro snorted lightly at Lance's tone and the way the machine started beeping at him. "Better cool down there. Wouldn't want a nurse to come in wondering what's wrong… We'd probably get yelled at for… this." Shiro gestured between them and the fact that he was very much  _ not _ in his own bed. He didn't imagine that patients sharing a bed was looked on too lightly, especially not when both patients were fresh out of surgery. 

Lance groaned softly in mortification at the thought of a nurse coming in and seeing him so flustered. It was embarrassing enough for Shiro to see it, Lance could flirt (badly) relentlessly with women and be unaffected but it appeared that his preference for men left him vulnerable to intense shyness. “S’your fault, butthead.” Lance mumbled with a soft, fond voice. He hoped the comment didn’t offend Shiro, he didn’t  _ mean _ it, but he was  _ embarrassed _ .

Lance was cute when he was flustered, Shiro decided. Still, the fond-toned insult had him biting down a laugh, shaking his head. "Hey now… Just because my face has a crack in it doesn't make it  _ that _ kind of crack." It was a terrible joke and probably in poor taste but… it was what popped into his head. 

Lance snorted softly, poking his tongue out for a moment. “I’d still kiss it even if it  _ was _ .” He shot back, the burn in his cheeks still present and the bold statement being ruined by the beep of the monitor at the side of his bed. It was hard to flirt when there was something to show how flustered you  _ really _ were damnit.

Leaning over, Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of Lance's head, just past his fingers. "I should go. Call my parents, I mean. And you should try to get some rest. You look like you need it." Of course he needed it. His  _ back _ was broken. This whole thing was a mess. Shiro felt like a mess. Physically as well as emotionally. But if he got the call out of the way then he could get some sleep. Reluctantly, he got out of the bed, carefully limping the distance back to his bed and paging for a nurse. He should have his ankle checked out too. 

“Mnh.” When Shiro pressed a kiss to his head Lance leaned into the soft pressure for as long as it was there. He let his hand drop and gave Shiro a tired grin. “Yeah… go call your parents. Then sleep, you look pale… and… really tired. Heh no shit Lance huh.” Lance dropped his head back onto the pillow properly after shuffling down the bed the best he could. “G’night Shiro.” Lance mumbled as he closed his eyes, doing his best to calm himself. It wasn’t hard for him to find sleep, not with the amount of painkillers he had coursing through his system, or the bone deep exhaustion from the crash.

  
Watching Lance drop off to sleep as he waited for the nurse, Shiro nearly dozed off himself. But he was roused by the sound of the door opening. Soon enough he was having his ankle checked out--sprained, apparently--and was ushered out into a family waiting room so that he could call his parents with some degree of privacy. The conversation ping-ponged all over with his mother winding up crying no less than four times and Shiro twice. And, as expected, he  _ did _ wind up getting asked about Lance. And was told that he would be getting  _ many _ more questions and that she wanted to talk to him when he was up to it. That done, he excused himself and headed back to his room, not taking long at all before he was sound asleep. 


End file.
